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Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHIVI/ICIViH 
Collection  de 
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Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Mrcroreproductions  /  Institut  canadien  d»  nrrrcroreproductions  historiques 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notes  techniques  et  bibllographiques 


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which  may  alter  any  of  the  images  in  the 
reproduction,  or  which  may  significantly  change 
the  usual  method  of  filming,  are  checited  below. 


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Coloured  covers/ 
Couverture  de  couleur 


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Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaurde  et/ou  pellicul6e 


I      I    Cover  title  missing/ 


Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 


I      I    Coloured  maps/ 


Cartes  gdographiques  en  couleur 


Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  biacic)/ 
Encrs  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 


I      I    Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations/ 


Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 

Bound  with  other  material/ 
ReM  avec  d'autras  documents 

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along  interior  margin/ 

La  re  liure  serrde  pent  causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 
distortion  le  long  de  la  marge  intdrieure 

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have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  se  peut  que  certaines  pages  blanches  ajoutdes 
lors  d'une  restauration  apparaissent  dans  le  texte, 
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□   Coloured  pages/ 
Pages  de  couleur 


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Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommagdes 

Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Pages  restaurdes  et/ou  pellicul6es 

Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 
Pages  d6color6es,  tachetdes  ou  piqudes 

Pages  detached/ 
Pages  ddtach6es 

Showthrough/ 
Transparence 


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Quality  indgale  de  I'impression 

Includes  supplementary  material/ 
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I — I    Only  edition  available/ 


Seule  Edition  disponible 

Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to 
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Commentaires  suppl6mentaires: 


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possible  considering  the  condition  and  legibility 
of  the  original  copy  and  in  keeping  with  the 
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BY   A.    G.   BRADLEY    : 

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PREFACE 

THE  subject  of  this  volume  will,  for  the  most 
part,  I  have  reason  to  think,  possess  at  least 
the  merit  of  novelty  for  the  general  reader.  The 
oblivion  to  which  in  this  country  the  American  War 
of  Independence  has  been  consigned  is  at  least  com- 
prehensible. It  had  few  dramatic  features,  and  for  us 
was  not  glorious,  either  in  motive  or  conduct.  But 
the  earlier  war  with  the  French  power  in  America 
was  not  only  rich  in  picturesque  detail  and  dramatic 
situation,  but  formed  an  important  part  of  the  most 
glorious  and  most  epoch-making  struggle  in  which 
Great  Britain  was  ever  engaged.  Yet  no  English 
writer,  using  the  term  in  its  narrow  sense,  has  seriously 
touched  the  subject  since  Warburton,  early  in  the 
century,  published  his  two  admirable  volumes  on  the 
Conquest  of  Canada.  The  well-known  Canadian 
historian,  the  late  Mr.  Kingsford,  has  devoted  a 
great  part  of  volumes  III.  and  IV.  in  his  exhaustive 
history  of  the  Dominion  to  the  period  in  question. 
But  it  is  idle  to  speak  of  what  may  be  called  in 
general  terms  books  of  reference  (however  interest- 
ing to  the  student),  when  the  fascinating  pages  of 
the  brilliant  American,  Francis  Parkman,  are  only 
known  to  so  comparatively  small  a  circle  of  English 
readers.  On  this  very  account  it  might  seem  vain 
to  make  any  further  attempt  to  recall  the  Ameri- 
can campaigns  of  Braddock,   Loudon,  Abercromby, 

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PREFACE 


Amherst,  Wolfe  and  others.  Nor  can  I  plead  that  the 
South  African  War,  with  its  many  points  of  com- 
parison, influenced  my  decision,  for  this  book  was 
already  in  progress  when  this  second  struggle,  if  I 
may  call  it  so,  for  racial  supremacy  on  a  distant 
continent  was  thrust  on  the  British  nation.  The 
fortuitous  selection,  however,  of  this  moment  to  re- 
tell the  story  of  the  Anglo-French  struggle  for 
empire  in  the  old  days  of  America  may  surely  be 
accounted  as  all  in  favour  of  the  undertaking. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  chief  motive  that  impelled 
me  to  the  attempt  was  nothing  more  than  a  strong 
attachment  of  very  old  standing  to  this  and  kindred 
subjects — an  attachment  begotten  by  many  years 
of  residence  under  the  shadow  of  the  Alleghanies, 
in  the  most  vigorous  and  impressionable  period  of 
life,  and  stimulated  by  occasional  wanderings  with 
tent  and  canoe  amid  the  wild  and  romantic  water- 
ways of  Canada.  I  do  not  know  that  association 
with  scenes  where  history  has  been  made  in  any  way 
strengthens  one's  qualifications  for  writing  it,  but  I 
do  know  that  in  a  case  like  this  it  greatly  sweetens 
the   labour. 

One  practical  idea,  at  any  rate,  if  not  based  perhaps 
on  a  very  elevated  hypothesis,  I  had  before  me  in  the 
writing  of  this  book — namely,  that  a  single  volume 
on  an  unfamiliar  subject  may  perchance  in  these  so- 
called  busy  days  find  readers  where  a  bulkier  work 
of  greater  merit  might  be  left  upon  the  shelf. 

I  make  no  attempt  in  these  pages  to  address  the 
serious  student  of  this  war,  if  indeed  there  be  any 
such  on  this  side  the  Atlantic.  I  have  few  incidents 
to  relate  that  have  not  been  told  with  greater 
elaboration  elsewhere ;   indeed,  I  am  writing  more 


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especially  for  those  to  whom  nearly  the  whole  story 
will  be  new,  and  have  even  thus  no  small  difficulty 
in  condensing  its  more  salient  and  familiar  features 
within  the  necessary  limits. 

The  founding  of  our  Indian  Empire  is  more  or  less 
related  in  the  biographies  of  Clive  and  Hastings,  as 
well  as  in  other  short  and  handy  books,  and  is  by 
those  popular  channels  made  comparatively  familiar. 
Wolfe's  life,  on  the  other  hand,  but  partially  touches 
on  the  struggle  which  destroyed  the  French  power 
in  America,  though  he  is  the  hero  rl  it.  For  Wolfe 
flashed  like  a  meteor  on  a  contest  already  many 
years  old,  and  vanished  in  a  blaze  of  glory  that, 
though  decisive  in  a  sense,  was  not  by  any  means 
the  closing  scene.  Every  schoolboy  knows,  or  is 
popularly,  though  probably  very  erroneously,  sup- 
posed to  know,  the  details  of  the  Plains  of  Abraham, 
but  I  will  undertake  to  say  that  there  are  many  thou- 
sands of  schoolmasters  who  have  never  so  much  as 
even  heard  of  the  still  bloodier  battle  of  St.  Foy, 
fought  upon  the  same  ground,  within  six  months,  by 
the  same  troops  ;  while,  so  far  as  my  experience  goes» 
the  memories  of  Braddock's  defeat,  Ticonderoga  or 
Louisbourg  are  much  more  often  than  not  of  the 
ha-^iest  description,  and  sometimes  are  barely  ven 
memories  in  quarters  whore  such  recognition  would 
be  most  expected. 

The  great  Anglo-Saxon  family  quarrel  which  robbed 
Great  Britain  of  the  very  colonies  for  whose  relief 
she  had  spent  so  much  blood  and  treasure  is  a  ques- 
tion to  itself,  and  a  sufficiently  big  one.  But  it  in  no 
way  affects  the  decisive  nature  of  the  French  defeat 
and  the  far-reaching  consequences  which  contributed 
to  make  the  signing  of  the  Treaty  of  Paris  in  1763 


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the  most  glorious  and  the  most  pregnant  moment  in 
recent  British  history ;  though  Pitt,  to  be  sure,  did 
think  it  might  have  been  still  more  emphatically 
marked.  In  its  significance  for  the  Anglo-Saxon 
race  at  large  no  epoch  will  compare  witli  it. 

The  title  of  this  book  requires,  perhaps,  a  word 
of  explanation.  For  one  tj^ing,  I  shall  doubtless  be 
informed  that  Mexico  is  geographically  in  North 
America,  and  has  not  yet  been  annexed  to  Anglo- 
Saxon  dominion,  and  may  never  be.  To  say  that 
one  regards  Mexico  as  belonging  rather  to  the  at- 
mosphere of  South  America  would  be  a  poor  excuse. 
It  will  be  more  honest  to  at  once  admit  that  I  sought 
long  and  vainly  for  a  title  that  would  convey,  with 
sufficient  brevity,  the  nature  of  the  work  and  explain 
its  purport  on  a  book  list,  before  adopting  one  that 
involved  a  technical  inaccuracy. 

Alternatives  will  no  doubt  present  themselves  at 
once  to  most  minds,  as  they  did  to  mine,  but  it  will 
be  sufficient  here,  I  think,  to  say  that  none  of  them 
seemed  to  me  lucid  enough  when  it  is  considered  how 
hazy  is  everything  transatlantic  to  the  English  mind. 
"  The  Seven  Years'  War  in  North  America  "  would  be 
the  natural  and  logical  title  for  such  a  book  as  this. 
I  have  a  notion  that  a  reviewer  would  say  that  it 
was  sufficient  and  unmistakeable.  But  a  literary 
critic  would  not  be  human  if  his  own  range  of  books 
and  subjects  did  not  lead  him  to  sometimes  under- 
estimate the  oblivion  under  which  some  chapters  of 
history  rest  in  the  popular  mind.  For  myself  I  feel 
quite  sure  that  such  a  title  as  the  above  would  sug- 
gest in  many  quarters  some  struggle  in  which  neither 
England  nor  France  nor  the  world  at  large  had  any 
great  concern. 

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PREFACE 


The  printed,  as  well  as  the  MS.  material,  in  the 
shape  of  history,  biography,  journals,  and  papers 
bearing  on  this  war  is  very  ample.  In  the  many 
volumes  of  State  papers  at  the  Record  Office  relating 
to  these  events,  I  can  find  nothing  worthy  of  notice 
here  that  has  not  been  utilized  in  English,  American, 
or  Colonial  works.  Among  modern  historians  Park- 
man,  Kingsford  and  Warburton  stand  alone  in  the 
attention  they  have  given  to  this  period  in  America. 
Among  older  and  more  or  less  contemporary  writers, 
Smollett,  Mante  and  Entick  are  prominent ;  while  of 
the  numerous  diarists  Knox  is  the  most  exhaustive 
and  valuable  upon  the  English  side. 

It  is  not,  indeed,  from  lack  of  sources  of  inform- 
ation that  so  undue  a  mist  would  seem  to  cover  this 
fateful  chapter  of  British  history.  I  only  hope  that 
my  effort  to  present  it  in  handy  form  may  help  to 
remind  some  few  at  any  rate  of  that  incomparable 
moment  when  the  star  of  England  shone  with  a 
lustre  greater  even  than  during  the  epoch  that  wit- 
nessed Waterloo  and  saw  Napoleon  carried  in  a 
British  ship  to  St.  Helena. 

A.  G.  B. 


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CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I 

The  Treaty  of  Aix-la-Chapelle— Condition  and  Characteris- 
tics of  the  British- American  Colonies  and  of  Canada  in 
1750 


PAGB 


■■^ 


CHAPTER  II.    1747-1754 

French  Designs  against  British  Expansion— French  Expedi- 
tion to  the  Ohio  Valley— The  Acadians— Washington 
carries  the  English  Protest  to  the  Ohio— Fight  at  the 
"  Great  Meadows  "—Beginning  of  the  Struggle 


40 


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CHAPTER  III.    1754-1755 

A  British  Force  despatched  to  America— Braddock's  Expedi- 
tion to  the  Ohio — His  Defeat  on  the  Monongahela — His 
Death — Disastrous  Results 


75 


CHAPTER  IV.    1755-1756 

Shirley  occupies  Oswego— Johnson's  Futile  Campaign  on 
Lake  George— Deportation  of  the  Acadians— Apathy  of 
Pennsylvania— The  British  Frontiers  wasted 


107 


CHAPTER  V.    1755-1756 

Formal  Declaration  of  War  between  France  and  England- 
Montcalm  sent  to  Canada — Lord  Loudon  takes  Command 
of  the  British  Forces— His  Useless  Campaign  on  Lake 
George — Montcalm  captures  Oswego 137 

CHAPTER  VI.    1756-1757 

Difficulties  in  Forming  a  Ministry— Pitt  succeeds  to  Power — 
French  Attack  repulsed  on  Lake  George — Another  British 
Force  sails— Loudon's  Futile  Expedition  against  Louis- 
bourg— The  French  capture  Fort  William  Henry— The 
Massacre ,       .       .    161 


X.I 


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CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  VII.    1757-1758 


MSI 


Low  Ebb  of  British  Fortunes— Military  Apathy  in  Middle 
and  Southern  Colonies — OflScial  Corruption  in  Canada — 
Magnetic  Influence  of  Pitt  on  British  Aifairs— Wolfe 
and  Amherst— Siege  and  Capture  of  Louisbourg- Re- 
joicings in  England 200 


CHAPTER  VIII.    1758 

Abercroiaby  takes  Command  in  America — Large  British 
Army  gathers  at  Albany— Abercromby  attacks  Ticon- 
deroga— Repulsed  with  Great  Loss— Campbell  of  Inver- 
awe 231 


CHAPTER  IX.    1758 

Bradstreet  captures  Frontenac— Forbes  leads  an  Expedition 
against  Fort  Duquesne — Defeat  of  Grant  and  High- 
landers near  the  Fort — Post,  the  Moravian  Missionary — 
Forbes  occupies  Fort  Duquesne — His  Death       .       .       .    260 


f 


CHAPTER  X.    1758-1750 

The  Expedition  against  Quebec  under  Wolfe— Difficulties 
of  the  Siege— Battle  on  the  Plains  of  Abraham — Death 
of  Wolfe  and  Montcalm — Smaender  of  the  City .       .       .    288 

CHAPTER  XI.    1750 


Flight  of  the  French  Army  from  Quebec — Mmray  in  Com- 
mand of  the  British  Garrison— Amherst  captures  Ticon- 
deroga  and  Crown  Point — Prideaux  takes  Niagara    . 


327 


CHAPTER  XII.    1750-1760 

British  Army  winters  in  Quebec — French,  under  L^vis,  re- 
turn and  attack  the  City — Battle  of  St.  Foy— Quebec 
relieved  by  British  Ships — French  Forces  retire  on 
Montreal — Murray  ascends  the  St.  Lawrence  to  Mont- 
real—Amherst  descends  the  River  from  Lake  Ontario — 
Haviland,  with  Third  Army,  joins  them  from  the  South — 
,  Siurender  of  Montreal  and  the  French  possessions  in 
North  America  to  Great  Britain 

Conclusion 


354 


Xll 


.i^ 


:-^ 


!.■>■ 


V-:im: 


'& 


LIST  OF  MAPS 


TO  FACE  PAGE 


Canada  and  the  British  Colonies  in  1750  .       (Frcmtiapiece) 
Map  showing  the  Two  Military  Highways  between  Canada 

and  the  British  Colonies 109 

Map  of  Nova  Scotia 223 

Siege  of  Louisbourg,  1758 222 

The  Attack  on  Ticonderoga,  July  8th,  1758    ....  239 

Siege  of  Quebec,  1750 209 


/ 


Xlll 


*i^- 


r' 


=Wf^^ 


l♦^ 


# 


ERRATA 

Page  10,  first  two  lines  should  be  transposed. 

Page  54,  far  "  Hobson  "  read  "  Hopson." 

Page  78,  line  25,  /or  "  Catholic  king "  read  "  Christian  king." 

Page  151,  headline  of  page,  for  "  Soldier"  read  "  Soldiers." 

Page  155,  f(yr  "  Pepperall "  read  "  Pepperell." 

Page  103,  headline  of  page, /or  "The  Fight  with  France"  read 
"Without  a  Leader." 

Page  311,  f(yr  "  of  Pitts.    Though  "  read  "  of  Pitts,  though." 

Page  317,  note,  f(yr  " fatuitously "  read  "fortuitously";  fonr 
"the  family.  A  beautiful  specimen "  read  "the  family;  a  beau- 
tiful specimen." 

Page  318,  note, /or  "  Professor  Robson  "  read  "  That  of  Professor 
Bobison." 


Note  appertaining  to  page  327. 

In  a  letter  written  on  the  field  of  battle  at  two  o'clock  by  an 
officer  to  his  friends  in  England,  which  lies  before  me,  the  dura- 
tion of  the  fight  is  estimated  at  half  an  hour.  The  writer  is 
Colonel  de  Ruvigny,  B.E.,  grandson  of  the  Count  de  la  Caille- 
motte,  killed  at  the  Boyne,  and  gpceat  grandson  of  the  celebrated 
Huguenot  statesman,  the  Marquis  de  Buvigny,  and  himself  subse- 
quently fifth  Marquis  de  Buvigny  (de  jure),  and  a  naturalized 
English  subject.  I  am  indebted  to  the  courtesy  of  the  present  re- 
presentative of  the  family  for  the  letter  in  question.  The  fact 
that  it  is  written  in  French  is  a  curiously  significant  comment  on 
the  policy  of  France  towards  its  Pi*otestants.  The  writer  speaks 
of  the  fury  of  the  French  attack,  and  the  confusion  of  their  re- 
treat. He  deplores  the  death  of  Wolfe,  and  speaks  of  the  reported 
or  expected  death  of  Montcalm  as  removing  the  one  leader  in 
whom  the  Canadians  were  supposed  to  have  confidence. 


XV 


4 


w 


t 


^ 


e 


:» 


CHAPTER  I 


THE  war  of  the  Austrian  succession,  ever  memor- 
able to  Englishmen  for  the  fierce  fights  of 
Dettiugen  and  Fontenoy,  was  brought  to  a  close  in 
August,  1748,  by  the  peace  of  Aix-la-Chapelle.  For 
her  lavish  expenditure  of  blood  and  money.  Great 
Britain  had  reaped  little  other  profit  than  a  qualified 
measure  of  renown.  She  had  shown  to  the  world, 
however,  that  nearly  thirty  years  of  peace  had  not 
robbed  her  soldiers  of  their  ancient  valour,  even 
when  handled,  as  they  too  often  were,  with  con- 
spicuous incapacity  and  ofiicered  by  a  system  that 
took  no  cognizance  of  merit  and  was  based  almost 
wholly  on  favouritism  and  corruption. 

At  Fontenoy  the  twelfth  regiment,  to  take  a  chance 
instance,  was  led  into  action  by  a  captain.  At  Det- 
tingen  the  major  was  in  command,  while  James 
Wolfe,  then  a  callow  youth  of  sixteen,  had  to  grapple 
as  best  he  could  with  the  onerous  and  responsible 
duties  of  adjutant,  complaining  bitterly  in  his  letters 
of  the  lack  of  discipline.  Marlborough's  officers  were 
dead  or  doting.  Privilege  and  faction  regulated  the 
pay  list,  though  it  is  well  to  remember  that  tie 
beardless  colonel  died  as  freely  and  fought  as 
courageously  as  the  grey-haired  subaltern.  Let  it 
ever  be  borne  in  mind,  too,  that  the  king  himself 
and  his  burly  son,  the  Duke  of  Cumberland,  were 

1  B 


mi^^ 


!t 


THE   SEVEN  TEARS'  WAR 

bright  examples  of  this  cardinal  virtue  of  physical 
courage,  and  asked  no  man  to  dare  what  they  would 
not  dare  themselves — nay,  were  only  eager  to.  They, 
at  least,  were  not  responsible  for  the  unwholesome 
thing  that  squandered  human  life  and  courted  dis- 
grace. If  the  Duke's  level  of  capacity,  moderate 
though  it  was,  had  been  maintained  throughout  the 
service,  there  would  not  have  been  a  great  deal  to 
complain  of ;  while  to  a  modern  monarch,  who  asks 
for  nothing  better  than  the  heat  of  battle,  and  when 
in  it  bears  himself  right  nobly,  much  may  surely 
be  forgiven,  or  ought  to  be.  If  George  II.  had  been 
spoiling  for  war,  and  had  personally  contributed 
for  no  sufficient  reason  to  the  closing  of  Wal- 
pole's  long  and  prosperous  peace  in  1739,  the  people 
at  large,  without  his  excuse — for  Hanover  was  no- 
thing to  them — were  equally  bellicose.  If  the  peace 
of  1748  left  the  country  with  little  to  show  for  its 
big  bill,  the  renewal  of  the  conflict  eight  years  later 
proved  in  this  matter  of  a  profit  and  loss  account  a 
most  singular  and  brilliant  contrast.  The  mighty 
struggle  commonly  known  as  the  Seven  Years'  War 
should  be  kept  separate  in  Englishmen's  minds  from 
all  other  contests  in  which  the  nation  has  been  engaged, 
for  it  lifted  Great  Britain  from  a  constantly  fluctuating 
position  of  more  or  less  equality  with  rival  powers 
to  the  first  place  among  the  nations  of  the  world.  ^ 
It  made  her  the  permanent  mistress  of  the  seas  and 
of  a  w  Grid  empire  unshaken  by  the  military  and  social 
upheavals  of  Europe,  whose  territorial  disputes  and 
dynastic  struggles  seem  by  comparison  almost  trifling 

^  The  revolt  of  the  American  colonies  may  almost  be  called  a 
domestic  rupture.  At  any  rate,  it  did  not,  as  was  expected,  lower 
the  position  of  Great  Britain. 


■*:., 


physical 

would 

They, 

>le90ine 

;ed  dis- 

Dderate 

out  the 

leal  to 

lo  asks 

1  when 

surely 

d  been 

ributed 

f    Wal- 

people 

vas  no- 

9  peace 

for  its 

rs  later 

lount  a 

mighty 

•s'  War 

s  from 

igaged, 

^uating 

jowers 

world.* 

as  and 

social 

es  and 

trifling 

called  a 
,  lower 


SUPREMACY  IN  NORTH  AMERICA 

but  for  the  torrents  of  blood  they  caused  to  flow. 
Above  all,  it  inspired  her  people  with  a  sense  of  con- 
scious power,  of  worthy  pride  sobered  by  the  vast 
responsibilities  that  accompanied  so  great  a  position, 
and  a  self-confidence  that  was  never  again  seriously 
shaken. 

But  as  here  we  have  to  do  only  with  the  Western 
continent,  and  not  with  the  contemporaneous  found- 
ing of  the  Indian  Empire,  it  will  be  enough  to 
recall  the  main  issue  that  was  at  stake  in  North 
America.  Whether  Canada— or,  ^o  speak  more  per- 
tinently, what  is  now  British  North  America — 
was  to  be  French  or  English  seems  a  sufiGiciently 
large  question  when  weighed  in  the  balance  with 
the  possession  of  Minorca  or  the  boundary  of  a 
German  duchy.  But  even  this  shrinks  in  importance 
when  compared  with  the  still  greater  issue  of  Anglo- 
Saxon  or  Gallic  supremacy  on  the  continent  of  North 
America. 

Recent  events  at  the  sources  of  the  Nile  should 
stimulate  our  interest  in  a  crisis  of  infinitely  greater 
moment  that  a  century  and  a  half  ago  was  solved  by 
the  gauge  of  battle.  We  know  something  nowadays 
of  that  kind  of  colonization,  which  consists  in  hauling 
up  flags  and  map-making  and  tactics  that  are  merely 
obstructive  of  a  rival's  industrial  enterprise  without 
the  power  of  ^yholesome  competition.  It  may  be 
human  and  natural  and  entirely  venial,  but  on  that 
very  account  is  only  entitled  to  consideration  on 
the  same  low  plane — that  of  physical  force.  It 
is  a  far  cry  from  Fashoda  to  the  Ohio,  from  1899 
to  1754.  But  the  most  enthusiastic  dreamer  of 
African  dreams  will  hardly  contend  that  the  Nile 
hinterland,  even  with  Egypt  thrown  in,  was  com- 

3 


I 


TREATY  OF  AIX-LA-CHAPELLE 


parable  as  a  stake  to  the  North  American  conti- 
nent— a  white  man's  country  and  a  white  man's 
climate.^  This,  however,  was  the  stake  for  which 
France  played  in  the  days  of  Louis  XV.,  and,  thus 
venturing,  lost  not  only  her  former  position,  but 
her  very  existence  as  a  transatlantic  power. 

Though  nearly  all  Europe  was  in  arms,  it  is  with 
France  and  England  that  we  are  here  alone  concerned. 
Great  as  were  the  exertions  put  forth  against  other 
powers  by  these  two  nations,  it  was  only  each  other 
that  they  had  real  cause  to  dread.  Their  respective 
armies  might  win  or  lose  in  the  Low  Countries  or 
Germany,  a  million  of  human  beings  might  perish, 
and  torrents  of  blood  might  flow,  and  volumes  of 
military  history  might  be  made ;  but  so  far  as  the 
Western  actors  in  it  were  concerned,  it  began  and 
ended  with  the  game  of  war,  waged  upon  wholly 
frivolous  or  personal  accounts.  Except  for  the  still 
far-ofP  results  of  the  military  development  of 
Prussia  under  Frederic,  the  destinies  of  the  world 
were  but  little  affected  by  the  long  misery  and 
suffering  under  which  Europe  groaned.  To  France 
and  England,  at  any  rate,  the  issue  was  as  nothing 
compared  to  that  for  which  their  scattered  out- 
posts were  contending  in  the  pathless  forests  of 
America,  on  the  burning  plains  of  India,  among 
the  fogs  and  ice-fields  of  the  North. 

The  peace,  or  so-called  peace — more  accurately 
described  by  some  historians  as  an  armed  truce — which 
lasted  from  1748  to  1756  witnessed  the  first  stealthy 


n 


1 


5 
I 


*  Since  this  chapter  was  written,  the  South  African  war  has 
^iven  us  the  picture  of  another  great  racial  struggle ;  the  minor 
details  of  which  are,  at  times,  singularly  suggestive  of  the  Seven 
Tears'  War. 


THE  AMERICAN  POLICY  OF  IRANCE 

efforts  of  the  French  American  policy,  the  awakening 
of  England  to  her  danger,  and  the  actual  opening  of 
the  struggle. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  treaty  of  Aix-la-Ghapelle  had 
not  been  signed,  nor  indeed  actually  formulated,  when 
the  French  rulers  of  Canada,  with  the  sympathy  of 
their  king  and  Government,  commenced  the  opera- 
tions from  which  they  hoped  so  much.  Their  pur- 
pose, stated  briefly,  was  to  confine  the  future  influence 
and  territory  of  England  to  the  thirteen  colonies 
which  lay  at  present  a  mere  strip  along  the  Atlantic 
coast.  Behind  the  more  northern  of  these  the  scope 
of  Western  development  was  limited,  for  obvious 
geographical  and  other  reasons.  The  treaty  Indians 
of  the  Six  Nations  occupied  the  rear  of  New  England 
and  New  Tork ;  while  behind  these,  again,  stretched 
the  great  water-way  of  the  St.  Lawrence  and  its 
lakes,  which  constituted  the  Canadian  boundary. 
But  at  the  back  of  all  the  other  colonies,  trending 
southwards  and  nearly  parallel  with  the  coast-line,  the 
great  range  of  the  Alleghanies  lifted  its  shaggy  peaks. 
The  limits  of  civilization  had  barely  touched  it.  No- 
where had  British  settlement  as  yet  aspired  to 
leap  this  broad  barrier  of  forest-covered  mountains 
into  the  dreaded  Indian-haunted  wilderness  beyond. 
The  policy  of  France  was  to  prevent  it,  if  pos- 
sible, ever  doing  so,  and  to  make  the  rampart 
which  nature  and  Indian  hostility  had  already 
made  so  formidable  still  more  effective  by  erecting 
a  chain  of  military  posts  behind  it.  The  French 
were  well  established  on  the  St.  Lawrence  and  its 
parent  lakes.  They  had  considerable  settlements  at 
the  mouth  of  the  Mississippi.  Their  cherished 
scheme   was   to   connect  the  two  by  a  long  line  of 

5 


>4k  m  *f*»^'-«  _ 


I 


il! 


ill 


STRENGTH  OF  THE  RIVAL  RAGES 

forest  fortresses,  to  form  firm  alliances  with  the 
warlike  Indians  behind  the  Alleghanies,  and  to  hold 
for  themselves  the  vast  Western  territories,  of 
whose  value  and  extent  their  daring  explorers  had 
given  them  a  due  appreciation. 

The  English  colonists  may  fairly  be  described  as  un- 
conscious of  these  schemes  or  of  their  import.  They 
had  more  than  sufficient  territory  for  their  needs 
upon  the  east  of  the  Alleghanies.  The  mass  of  them 
were  stay-at-home  farmers  and  planters.  Neither 
Imperial  dreams  nor  future  divination  were  in 
keeping  with  their  habit  of  thought.  Frenchmen 
were  but  vague  figures  in  the  imagination  of  all 
men  south  of  the  Hudson,  and  the  great  West  but 
a  hazy  expression.  The  British  Government,  too, 
troubled  its  head  very  little  about  its  colonies; 
and  if  in  the  latter  there  was  a  small  handful  of 
men  who  did  divine  a  future  so  pregnant  with  vital 
issues,  and  raised  the  alarm,  posterity  has  given 
them  little  more  of  honour  than  their  contem- 
poraries gave  them  of  reward. 

Before  proceeding,  however,  to  the  story  of  the  great 
struggle,  it  is  indispensable  that  the  reader  should 
have  some  idea  of  w^e  relative  positions  of  the  two 
parties  to  it  in  North  America. 

Now  the  French  in  Canada,  exclusive  of  some 
10,000  Acadians,  who  were  nominally  British  subjects, 
numbered  about  60,000  souls.  The  English  colo- 
nists, on  the  other  hand — or,  to  be  more  accurate,  the 
colonial  subjects  of  Great  Britain  in  North  America — 
were  reckoned  by  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century 
at  nearly  a  million  and  a  half.  A  fifth  or  a  sixth  of 
this  number,  to  be  sure,  were  negro  slaves — a  source 
of  weakness  rather  than  of  strength.    But,  in  any 


<^ 


SU_ 


THE  THIRTEEN  COLONIES 

case,  the  preponderance  of  the  British  was  so  over- 
whelming that  the  notion  of  the  French  heing  a 
menace  to  their  present  security  or  a  rival  for  future 
dominion  seems  at  the  first  blush  incredible.  The 
test  of  numbers,  however,  was  never  a  more  fallacious 
one  than  in  this  particular  case,  nor  is  the  apparent 
paradox  at  all  simplified  by  the  fact  of  the  English- 
man's robust  personal  qualities,  both  as  a  man,  a 
soldier,  and  a  colonist. 

A  short  glance  at  the  situation  and  distribution  of 
the  rival  races  will,  I  think,  show  that  though  the 
French  aspirations  were  sufficiently  audacious,  they 
were  very  far  from  being  hopeless.  The  French 
were  concentrated  at  one  point;  the  British  were 
scattered  over  an  immense  area.  The  former  bowed 
unquestioningly  to  an  autocratic  rule ;  the  latter 
were  divided  into  thirteen  distinct  self-governing 
commonwealths.  While  the  Canadians  were  the 
obedient  tools  of  king  and  Church,  were  generally 
poor,  alert,  and  warlike,  the  English  colonists  were 
jealous  of  all  authority,  absorbed  in  trade  and  agri- 
culture, and  eminently  peaceful.  We  have  now  grown 
so  accustomed  to  think  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  inhabitants 
of  our  former  colonies  as  Americans  and  more  or 
less  a  homogeneous  nation,  that  it  requires  a  mental 
effort,  together  with  some  little  grasp  of  the  old 
state  of  affairs,  to  fully  prepare  oneself  for  an 
appreciation  of  the  struggle  of  1755-60. 

The  reader  will  not  resent,  I  trust,  being  reminded 
of  the  fact  that  the  thirteen  colonies  whose  growing 
power  the  French  so  dreaded,  and  thus  dreading 
tried  to  stifle,  are  represented,  with  some  slight  modi- 
fications, by  the  thirteen  original  States  of  the 
Union.     They  may  be  seen  in  the  map  of    to-day 


«.r<* 


11-^.*  *»-..*-«^ 


INTER-COLONIAL  JEALOUSY 

much  as  they  were  in  the  old  French  wars,  trail- 
ing down  the  Atlantic  coast  from  the  Canadian 
border  to  the  then  Spanish  province  of  Florida. 

Not  one  of  these  thirteen  commonwealths  had  any 
sort  of  constitutional  link  with  its  neighbour.  The 
only  tie  that  bound  them  together  was  their  common 
allegiance  to  the  Crown.  They  were  for  the  most  part 
jealous  of  each  other,  and  more  often  inclined  to 
thwart  than  to  promote  mutual  interests.  Some  had 
affinities  of  race  and  creed,  and  in  matters  non- 
administrative  more  readily  coalesced ;  while  others, 
again,  cherished  towards  one  another  a  positive 
aversion.  Each  colony  had,  at  some  period  during 
the  preceding  century,  begun  life  upon  its  own 
account,  and  had  grown  up  quite  independently  of 
its  neighbour  and  after  its  own  fashion.  Some 
of  them,  indeed,  in  the  elementary  stages  of  exist- 
ence had  gone  so  far  as  to  indulge  in  mimic  conflicts, 
and  over  the  matter  of  boundaries  there  was  peren- 
nial friction.  This  long  straggling  line  of  jealous 
and  often  jarring  commonwealths  resting  on  the  sea- 
coast  was  the  base  of  British  action  against  the 
compact,  military  colony  of  France ;  and  a  most  un- 
satisfactory base  it  for  a  long  time  proved. 

The  four  New  England  provinces  with  that  of  New 
York  had  the  friendly  but  uncertain  Six  Nations  and 
the  French,  with  their  bloodthirsty,  so-called  Christian 
Indians,  more  or  less  perpetually  upon  their  flank. 
The  rest,  from  Pennsylvania  to  infant  Georgia,  with 
rare  exceptions,  had  forgotten  the  earlier  horrors  of 
Indian  warfare,  and  had  scarcely  so  much  as  even 
set  eyes  upon  a  Frenchman.  Their  pioneers  had 
straggled  through  the  forests  that  covered,  as  with 
a  mantle,  all  Eastern    America    '  ^  the    foot  -  hills 

8 


1^. 


THE   WEST  NOT  YET  CONSIDERED 

of  the  AUeghanies;  but  colonial  life  in  its  active 
and  vital  sense  still  clustered  along  the  sea-coast, 
or  hugged  the  waterways  that  led  there.  Between 
the  AUeghanies  and  the  ocean  most  of  the  colonies 
had  a  territory,  roughly  approximating  to  the  size  of 
England,  with  a  population  of  but  one  or  two  hun- 
dred thousand  souls  in  each.  Their  people  wanted 
plenty  of  elbow-room,  particularly  to  the  southward, 
where  negro  labour  was  largely  used ;  but  even  in 
such  case  the  time  had  hardly  come  when  lust  of  land 
prompted  perilous  enterprises.  Society  was  not  yet 
dense  enough  to  produce  a  surplus  who  considered  it 
worth  while  to  cross  the  mountains  and  rene^y  the 
fight  with  a  fiercer  wilderness  and  a  more  formidable, 
for  better  armed,  savage  than  their  grandfathers  and 
great-grandfathers  had  waged  war  against  in  the 
days  of  the  Stuarts  and  William  of  Orange.  Men 
who  had  a  sufficient  livelihood,  too,  were  less  feverish 
and  more  contented  in  those  times  than  in  later 
ones.  Nor  were  they  much  better  equipped  for 
subduing  the  savage  and  the  wilderness  in  the  days 
of  the  Georges  than  they  had  been  in  those  of 
the  Tudors  and  Stuarts.  Those  all-powerful  factors 
of  civilization  —  steam  and  electricity  —  were  un- 
dreamt of.  Machinery  and  scientific  road -making 
were  in  their  infancy.  It  is  not  surprising  that 
Virginia,  for  instance,  with  a  white  population  of 
200,000,  and  a  territory  between  the  mountains  and 
the  sea  as  large  as  England,  and  as  generally  habit- 
able, should  have  troubled  itself  little  with  thoughts 
of  distant  adventure.  There  was  no  incentive  what- 
ever for  the  Virginian,  or  Carolinian,  or  Marylander 
of  1750  to  cross  the  Ohio  watershed  and  fight  the 
most  formidable  savage  warrior  that  the  world  has 

0 


.  I 


vi 


t      J»"— w.#.J»'  «»■•»»»  mmt  I  m»    tm*- -'-'•-—r 


h 


• 


ii/ 


THE  NEW  ENGLAND  COLONIES 

ever  seen,  for  the  privilege  of  growing  com  and 
hay,  or  stock,  that  he  could  not  get  to  any  market, 
even  if  he  lived  to  make  the  attempt.  The  average 
colonist  of  those  days,  leading,  south  of  the  Hudson 
at  any  rate,  a  humdrum,  comfortable  life,  cannot  be 
blamed  if  he  failed  to  grasp  the  situation,  or  read 
the  map  of  America  as  we  read  it  now,  and  was 
inclined  to  look  upon  the  reputed  schemes  of  wander- 
ing Frenchmen  as  hardly  worthy  the  attention  of 
practical  men,  till  the  rude  awakening  came. 

A  glance  at  the  map  will  show  that  the  New  England 
colonies,  at  that  time  four  in  number,  together  with 
New  York,  had  no  outlet  to  the  then  scarcely  known 
and  little  appreciated  West.  As  I  have  said,  they 
had  behind  them  the  famous  "  Six  Nations,"  a  leading 
factor  in  the  American  politics  of  that  day,  by  far 
the  most  powerful  Indian  combination,  and  at  the 
same  time  the  most  in  touch  with  colonial  civiliza- 
tion. Unlike  the  other  Indian  tribes,  their  sympathies 
had  been  consistently  pro-English.  But  even  so,  they 
may  be  said  to  have  held,  in  some  sort,  the  balance  of 
power  between  the  English  and  the  French,  which 
latter  nation  were  perpetually  intriguing  for  their 
alliance. 

Massachusetts,  Connecticut,  Rhode  Island,  end  New 
Hampshire,  standing  in  the  order  named  as  regards 
relative  importance,  constituted  the  Puritan  colonies 
of  that  day,  Vermont  and  Maine  being  carved  out  of 
them  later.  These  provinces  alone  understood,  though 
perhaps  not  very  perfectly,  the  art  of  combination 
for  offensive  and  defensive  war.  They  were  practi- 
cally homogeneous  in  stock  and  creed  and  habits 
of  thought.  Both  the  Indian  and  the  Frenchman 
were  still  for  them  a  burning  reality,  and  they  knew 

10 


_  ^a 


THE  NEW  ENGLAND  COLONIES 


them  only  too  well.  They  were  much  the  most 
warlike  group  of  the  British  colonies,  not  from  choice, 
but  from  necessity.  Their  origin  and  Puritan  tone 
of  life  are  so  familiar  as  to  be  hardly  worth  an 
allusion ;  but  the  vulgar  error  of  supposing  the  New 
Englanders  to  be  all  of  humble  extraction,  while  the 
Southern  colonists  had  a  monopoly  of  blood,  cannot 
be  sufficiently  held  up  to  ridicule.  Numbers  of 
cadets  of  arms-bearing  and  land-owning  families  went 
to  New  England,  but  both  political  and  social  life 
was  there  cast  in  democratic  lir  «)8,  and  local  conditions 
did  not  favour  the  acquisition  of  great  estates.  An 
influential  and  higher  class  of  varied  origin  arose  in 
New  England  as  in  the  South,  but  the}''  had  to  main- 
tain their  position  by  superior  force  of  character  and 
intellect,  perhaps,  rather  than  by  superior  estate.  At 
the  samo  time,  as  near  an  approach  to  social  equality 
as  is  possible  among  an  educated  and  civilized  com- 
munity existed  in  New  England.  Local  government 
was  highly  organized,  and  politics  a  matter  of  uni- 
versal interest.  People  lived  in  communities,  very 
much  under  the  eye  of  their  neighbours,  and  of  a 
public  opinion  to  which  no  slight  deference  was 
paid. 

This  latter  was  narrow,  vigorous,  and  at  times 
tyrannical,  and  strongly  influenced  by  a  religious 
bigotry  that  bordered  on  fanaticism.  Tempered  by 
modern  progress  and  a  high  education,  the  New 
England  character  has  broadened  into  a  type  whose 
good  points  are  greatly  in  the  ascendant.  In  the 
colonial  period  the  asperities  of  the  average  New 
Englander  were  uppermost,  his  virtues  less  evident 
to  his  fellow-colonists,  by  whom  he  was  cordially 
disliked;  while   the   same  antipathetic   feeling    dis- 

11 


If,  I 


•  ■ 


( 


V 


NEW  ENGLANDER8  AS  SOLDIERS 

tinguishes  the  sentiments  of  all  English  travellers  of 
that  day.^  In  education,  however,  at  that  time  the 
New  Englanders  as  a  community  were  far  in  advance 
of  the  rest  of  the  continent,  and,  for  that  matter,  of 
the  rest  of  the  world.  Indigence  and  ignorance  were 
almost  unknown ;  and  though  there  were  no  rich 
people,  there  were  scarcely  any  who  were  very  poor. 
The  same  religious  and  political  zeal  which  had 
created  their  schools,  churches,  and  local  governments 
made  some  sort  of  military  organization  easier  for 
them  than  for  their  more  apathetic  neighbours. 

At  the  same  time,  while  better  constituted  for  rais- 
ing, feeding,  and  paying  regiments,  their  social  system 
contained  in  itself  drawbacks  to  military  efficiency 
not  so  obvious  in  the  other  colonies.  Every  private, 
whether  farmer,  fisherman,  or  mechanic,  was  a 
politician,  and,  though  ready  to  fight,  watched  with 
jealous  eye  lest  his  terms  of  service,  often  loaded 
with  conditions,  were  in  danger  of  being  infringed. 
Still  worse,  perhaps,  the  officers  were  chosen  by 
the  men  they  were  to  command  —  not  a  bad  plan 
in  a  company  of  experienced  bush-fighters  bound 
on  perilous  enterprise,  but  one  fatal  to  discipline 
when  extended  to  a  whole  army  of  raw  militia- 
men. Massachusetts  was  far  the  most  powerful  of 
the  New  England  colonies,  while  Connecticut  was 
easily  second.  These  provinces,  moreover,  had  pro- 
duced both  writers  and  preachers  whose  fame  had 
crossed  the  Atlantic.  They  had  performed,  too,  more 
than  one  spontaneous  feat  of  arms  which  did  them 
credit  and  gained  them  the  thanks  of  the  mother 

^  The  higher  class  of  Bostonians  are  usually  exempted  from  the 
strictures  of  these  travellers. 

12 


L' 

i 


attEta 


THE  COLONY  OF  NEW  YORK 


pro- 
had 


country.  In  the  very  last  war,  in  the  year  1745, 
and  at  a  moment  of  depression  to  British  arms  in 
Europe,  their  raw  militia,  with  the  help  of  the  fleet, 
had  attacked  and  captured  the  g^eat  French  fortress 
of  Louisbourg.  In  the  coming  war  they  were  to  far 
eclipse  the  efforts  of  all  the  other  colonies  combined, 
and  twenty  years  later,  in  that  of  the  Revolution, 
were  to  hold  an  only  less  decisive  lead.  Yet  in  1860 
the  seceding  States  of  the  South  had  so  far  forgotten 
American  history  as  to  prof  ess  a  conviction  that  "The 
Yankees  would  not  fight."  The  awakening  was 
bitter,  as  we  all  know. 

New  York  to  some  extent  had  shared  with  the 
I'uritan  colonies  the  perils  of  French  and  Indian 
neighbourhood,  and  like  them  had  been  compelled, 
only  in  a  less  degree,  to  organize  and  to  fight.  She 
was  widely  different,  however,  both  in  origin  and 
composition.  The  Hudson  River  was  her  great 
artery,  and  along  its  banks  for  the  most  part  the  life 
of  the  colony  throbbed.  The  city  at  its  mouth  was 
then,  as  now,  the  most  light-hearted  and  cosmopolitan 
upon  the  Atlantic  coast.  Its  population  was  some- 
what heterogeneous,  but  the  English  and  the  Dutch 
largely  preponderated,  and  alone  influenced  the  life 
and  tone  of  the  colony.  On  the  seaboard  nearly  all 
trace  of  the  early  jealousy  that  had  not  unnaturally 
distinguished  the  two  races  had  disappeared  with 
the  tie  of  a  common  danger,  a  common  Protestant- 
ism and  a  free  government.  The  cast  of  society 
was  aristocratic  and  in  curious  contrast  to  the 
Anglo-Dutch  peoples  of  South  Africa.  The  Hollanders 
were  indeed  partly  responsible  for  the  tone.  Great 
estates  upon  the  Hudson  had  been  originally  granted 
to  Dutch  gentlemen  on  condition  of  their   settling 

13 


m 


II 

^(1 


11 

'I 


f 


PENNSYLVANIA 

them  with  dependants  in  semi-feudal  fashion.  The 
Patroon  families  were  few  in  number,  but  perhaps 
the  nearest  approach  to  a  feudal  aristocracy  in  North 
America.  English  families  who  had  achieved  wealth 
and  distinction  or  had  official  positions  intermarried 
with  these,  while  there  was  a  tendency  in  the  older 
parts  of  the  colony  for  broad  acres  and  gentility 
to  identify  themselves  together  and  to  hold  aloof 
from  the  mass  of  the  people.  In  spite  of  the  strong 
Dutch  element,  the  prevailing  creed  was  Anglican. 
The  succession  of  William  of  Orange  to  the  Eng- 
lish throne,  and  still  wore  perhaps  a  zealous 
Protestantism  and  a  lively  dread  of  both  the 
Indians  and  Catholic  French,  had  produced  a 
loyalty  that,  with  some  notable  exceptions,  was 
in  a  fashion  more  ardent  than  that  of  the 
republican  Puritans  of  New  England.  Nor  did  the 
admirable  Huguenot  element,  which  found  here  a 
hearty  welcome  and  freedom  from  persecution,  in 
any  way  dissent  from  the  attachment  to  a 
Government  that  made  their  lives  once  again  worth 
living.  No  stratum  of  provincial  life  was  greatly 
agitated  by  religious  or  political  dogmas.  It  was  an 
easy-going,  prosperous,  but  perhaps  slightly  colourless 
community,  which  at  its  capital  went  to  balls  and 
plays  and  made  merry  according  to  its  degree  with- 
out any  fear  of  the  village  deacon  or  the  Quaker  legis- 
lator.* New  Jersey,  or  the  Jerseys — for  it  was  once 
divided — and  Delaware,  were  colonies  of  secondary 
importance,  and  somewhat  polyglot  in  population ; 
communities  of   farmers    of    various    nationalities, 


*  This  description  would  not  apply  to  the  Dutch  of  Albany  and 
the  Upper  Hudson,  concerning  whom  see  a  later  note. 

14 


i( 


If 


\ 


THE  SOUTHERN  COLONIES 

lacking  in  any  characteristics  that  one  can  take 
hold   of  without  undue  elaboration. 

Pennsylvania,  on  the  other  hand,  from  her  size, 
prosperity,  and  large  population,  was  of  great  im- 
portance. As  a  military  factor,  however,  she  was 
almost  a  cipher — a  condition  due,  of  course,  to  the 
powerful  Quaker  eleaient  in  her  population.  What 
was  not  Quaker  was  very  largely  German,  stupid 
for  the  most  part,  speaking  only  its  own  lan- 
guage, and  always  indifiPerent  to  everything  but 
its  own  personal  concerns.  To  the  back  country  on 
the  Alleghanies  the  stream  of  a  more  virile  popu- 
lation, to  be  sure,  had  been  long  finding  its  way 
from  the  north-east  of  Ireland,  about  whom  a  word 
will  be  said  later.  But  Pennsylvania,  as  a  whole, 
was  fat,  prosperous,  and  fanatically  pacific.  Her  sea- 
board counties  were  fertile  and  well  farmed,  while 
if  Boston  was  the  most  serious,  and  New  York  the 
most  worldly,  Philadelphia  was  the  most  comfort- 
able of  colonial  capitals.  Fight  Indians  or  French- 
men, however,  more  particularly  as  they  were 
tolerably  safe  themselves,  its  people  would  not :  a 
sore  point  enough  with  their  neighbours,  as  we 
shall  see  later  on.^ 

Maryland  and  Virginia  may,  for  purposes  of 
general  description,  be  fairly  classed  together.  Negro 
slavery  was  a  feature  in  all  the  colonies,  but  it  was 
not  till  the  traveller  reached  Maryland  that  he  found 
it  a  leading  factor  in  social  and  economic  life.     Then, 


and 


*  Pennsylvania  had  been  originally  settled  by  Swedes  in  1627. 
Tbey  were  forcibly  subjugated  in  1655  by  the  neighbouring  Dutch  of 
New  Amsterdam  (New  York),  who  themselves  passed  under  Eng- 
lish rule  in  1664.  Philadelphia  and  Pennsylvania  proper  were 
founded  by  Penn  in  1682. 

u 


i 


.^' 


fi 


i^ 


I  if 
ft 

it 


VIRGINIA 

as  a  century  later,  though  in  a  less  marked  degree, 
the  slave  line,  which  was  identical  with  the  northern 
boundary  of  the  old  Catholic  province,  divided  Anglo- 
Saxon  America  in  half.  The  Southern  colonies  were 
already  diverging  upon  lines  so  similar  to  one  another, 
and  so  at  variance  with  the  rest,  as  to  give  them  in 
time  quite  a  reasonable  pretext  for  posing  as  a 
separate  nation.  In  1750,  however,  things  had  not 
gone  nearly  so  far.  Yet  Virginia  was  even  then  so 
pronounced  a  type  of  the  Southern  provinces  that  a 
brief  description  of  her  condition  will  enable  us  to 
dismiss  the  others  with  a  word. 

As  Massachusetts  was  the  oldest  and  most  power- 
ful of  all  the  Northern  colonies,  so  was  Virginia  the 
oldest  and  most  influential  of  the  Southern  group. 
Her  people  were  almost  wholly  of  English  stock,  and 
at  this  time  numbered  nearly  200,000,  with  more 
than  half  as  many  negro  slaves.  They  were  a  com- 
munity of  agriculturists,  divided  into  three  practi- 
cally distinct  social  grades.  There  were  no  towns 
worth  mentioning,  and  no  trade  to  speak  of.  The 
production  of  tobacco,  and  the  foodstufPs  necessary 
to  those  who  grew  it,  was  t  ao  sole  indu;^  try ;  the 
ownership  of  land  and  negroco  ib<^  test  by  which 
men  were  graded.  Upon  the  basis  of  this  an  aris- 
tocracy arose,  which  was  to  some  extent  crystallized 
by  laws  of  primogeniture  and  entail.  All  the  world 
knows  Virginia  was  the  cavalier  colony,  and  knowing 
this  much  has  been  greatly  addicted  to  exaggerating 
its  significance.  Virginia  was  first  settled  neither  by 
political  nor  religious  refugees,  nor  yet  by  idealists  of 
any  kind.  Its  early  colonists  were  Englishmen  by 
blood,  in  no  way  discontented  with  English  institu- 
tions, but  on  the  contrary  anxious  to  reproduce  as 

16 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  VIRGINIA 


nearly  as  might  be  another  England  beyond  the 
Atlantic. 

The  contour  of  the  country,  the  early  shipment  of 
convicts  and  others  as  indented  servants,  together  with 
the  episcopal  and  English  spirit,  encouraged  after  the 
first  rude  beginnings  the  unit  of  land  as  the  fountarn 
of  power  and  influence.  Some  of  the  colonists  were 
cadets  of  good  families,  though  what  proportion  (a 
small  one  probably)  they  ultimately  formed  of  those 
who  emerged  as  large  landholders  and  the  founders 
of  notable  families  is  most  uncertain  and  of  little 
importance.  At  any  rate,  the  period,  though  not 
remote  enough  perhaps  to  win  respect  from  the 
Latin  or  the  Celt,  is  sufficiently  so  to  satisfy  the 
modest  genealogical  requirements  of  the  average 
Anglo-Saxon.  The  popular  local  legend  that  the  Vir- 
ginian gentry  were  largely  descended  from  scions 
of  the  then  small  body  of  English  nobility  is  too 
ludicrous  to  call  for  serious  notice. 

The  nomenclature  of  the  earlier  settler  in  Vir- 
ginia at  once  dissipates  so  absurd  a  theory.  A 
moment's  thought  would  remind  any  person  of 
ordinary  historical  knowledge  that  the  small  group 
of  privileged  individuals  who  constituted  the  British 
nobility  of  the  seventeenth  century  had  opportunities 
at  home  and  on  the  Continent  of  forwarding  th6 
interests  of  their  offspring  of  a  more  congenial 
and  brilliant  kind  than  would  be  implied  by  banish- 
ment to  the  life  of  a  settler  in  the  backwoods  of 
America.  The  numerous  squirearchy  of  that  day 
are  of  course  quite  another  affair,  and  that  they 
of  their  abundance  contributed  a  quota  of  younger 
sons  to  what  became  the  ruling  class  of  Virginia 
is  quite  a  reasonable  notion,  for  the  alternative  as 

17  C 


t.;l 


( 


.  I 


"' 


ibL 


T^ 


b  ■' 


THE  INFLUX  OF  CAVALIERS 

often  as  not  was  apprenticeship  to  a  tradesman  or 
country  attorney.^ 

However  that  may  be,  the  early  sentiment  of  the 
colony  was  to  get  as  much  land  as  you  could,  and  as 
much  unpaid  labour.  Conditions  encouraged  an 
imitation  of  English  life  so  far  as  circumstances 
would  admit.  As  soon  as  the  rough  and  ready  de- 
mocracy, inevitable  to  the  pioneer  period  of  a  com- 
munity struggling  for  a  livelihood  in  a  timbered 
country  peopled  with  hostile  Indians,  had  opportunity 
to  stratify,  it  seized  it.  When  the  grandchildren  of 
the  first  settlers  were  still  young,  the  nucleus  of 
another  England  had  arisen:  parsons  and  parish 
churches,  county  lieutenants  and  magistrates,  and 
the  beginnings  of  a  rural  aristocracy. 

The  death  of  Charles  I.  sent  another  wave  of 
immigration  to  the  colony,  that  intensified  its  early 
predilections  for  conservative  English  ways.  This 
was  composed  of  loyalists  from  every  class  of  the 
community  whom  the  fortune  of  war  had  deprived  of 
property  or  employment.  Though  many  of  them,  in- 
cluding most  of  those  who  were  of  note  or  influence  at 
home,  returned  at  the  Restoration,  the  stimulus  given 

*  People  possessed  of  the  popular  fallacy  that  in  the  "  good  old 
times  "  the  sons  of  country  squires  held  aloof  from  trade  and  only 
followed  "  the  professions  "  would  experience  a  rude  shock  on  the 
slightest  examination  of  family  history  in  the  17th  and  earlier 
18th  century,  and  for  most  obvious  reasons.  The  squirearchy  was 
relatively  much  more  numerous  than  now.  Individual  families 
larger.  There  was  no  standing  army  worth  mentioning.  The  navy 
was  mostly  officered  by  rough  sea  dogs.  Macaulay's  familiar  pic- 
ture of  the  country  parson  carousing  in  the  servants'  hall,  and 
marrying  my  lady's  waiting  woman,  is  at  least  suggestive  enough 
of  the  social  dignity  of  the  Church.  The  Bar  was  extremely  ex- 
pensive, and  much  more  the  resort  of  heirs  to  property  than  of 
younger  sons. 

18 


* 


SOCIAL  VIRGINIA 

formulated  in  Virginia  was  very  great,  and  fixed  it 
to  the  Anglican  and  stratified  form  of  life  already 
in  such  fashion  as  neither  republicanism  nor  still 
greater  social  earthquakes  in  modem  times  have 
been  able  wholly  to  destroy.  "Everybody  here," 
wrote  a  seventeenth-century  governor  of  Virginia 
(alluding  to  the  planters),  "would  fain  be  a  gentle- 
man." 

By  1750  it  had  been  tolerably  well  settled  who 
were  and  who  were  not.  There  were  the  great 
planters,  the  plain  farmers  or  yeomen,  the  labouring 
white  men,  indented  servants  of  a  varied  but  mostly 
low  type,  and  lastly  the  negro  slaves.  The  first  three 
classes  merged  indefinably  into  one  another,  of  course, 
but  of  the  ascendency  of  the  upper  class  in  social  and 
political  life  there  was  not  the  smallest  doubt.  They 
formed  the  Governor's  Council  or  Upper  House,  and 
except  in  the  newer  back  counties,  where  life  was 
naturally  more  democratic,  filled  the  House  of  Bur- 
gesses, which  was  a  salaried  assembly.  They  mono- 
polized all  the  Crown  appointments,  and  at  the  same 
time  profited  by  a  system  of  taxation  that  fell  far 
more  hardly  on  the  poor  than  on  the  rich.  They 
were,  however,  penurious  to  a  fault  in  the  ex- 
penditure of  public  money,  always  excepting  the 
matter  of  their  own  salaries.  They  were  at  constant 
loggerheads  with  the  royal  governor,  or  the  deputy 
who  usually  represented  him,  either  upon  the  ques- 
tion of  patronage  or  of  his  official  salary ;  but  this  in 
no  way  interfered  with  the  "  Church  and  King  "  tone 
of  the  colony.  They  sent  their  sons  to  England  for 
their  education  when  they  could  afford  it,  but  other- 
wise utilized  the  services  of  the  very  indifferent 
clergy  as  no  doubt  equally  indifferent  tutors.     They 

19 


•I  t 


1 


Vi 


! 


..'^ 


^ 


MODE  OF  LIFE  IN  VIRGINIA 

led  patriarchal,  isolated  lives  on  plantations  cut  out 
of  the  forests,  and  for  the  most  part  abutting  on 
tidal  rivers,  whence  English  ships  carried  home  their 
sole  produce — tobacco — and  supplied  them  with  such 
necessaries  as  they  could  not  procure  at  home,  and 
such  luxuries  as  they  could  afford.  They  were  a 
pleasant,  hospitable  people,  who,  unlike  the  typical 
New  Englander,  at  once  took  the  fancy  of  the 
stranger,  their  whole  system  of  life  being  based  on 
uneconomic  principles.  They  were  inclined  them- 
selves to  be  extravagant,  and  to  forestall  their  in- 
comes, and  as  their  one  crop,  tobacco,  restricted  by 
navigation  laws  to  an  English  market,  fluctuated 
terribly  in  price,  the  colony  was  liable  to  equivalent 
fluctuations  in  fortune.  Its  upper  class,  however, 
with  many  of  the  faults  due  to  a  life  of  peculiar 
seclusion  from  the  outer  world,  and  the  demoralizing 
influence  of  negro  slavery,  were  generally  frank, 
sensible,  and  able  for  any  emergencies  to  which  they 
might  be  called  from  their  normal  humdrum  and 
comfortable  life  when  once  aroused.^ 

The  middling  class  owned  in  concrete  a  vast 
quantity  both  of  land  and  negroes.  But,  unlike  the 
Northern  yeomanry,  they  had  no  education,  for  there 
were  no  schools.  The  presence  of  slavery  had  even 
thus  early  implanted  a  certain  contempt  for  manual 
labour,  which  is  wholly  mischievous  in  a  grade  of 
society  that  has  neither  birth  nor  education,  nor  yet 
possessions  sufficient  to  justify  abstention  from  it.  The 
energy  and  utility  of  the  common  farmers  of  Virginia 

*  Bumaby,  Smy the,  Weld,  Captain  Anbury,  the  Swedish  scientist 
Dr.  Ealm,  and  other  European  travellers,  have  left  interesting 
pictures  of  social  life  in  Virginia  and  the  Southern  colonies  at  or 
about  this  period. 

20 


«. 


NORTH  AND  SOUTH  CAROLINA 

and  the  Southern  colonies  were  then,  and  for  a  century 
afterwards,  greatly  sapped  by  this  demoralizing  in- 
fluence. Upon  the  class  below  it  had  a  far  worse 
effect,  the  "  poor  white  "  of  the  South  from  that  day 
to  this  being  the  most  degraded  type  of  Anglo-Saxon 
in  existence,  and  beyond  all  doubt  the  greatest  out- 
cast. 

I  have  dwelt  thus  long  on  Virginia  for  the  reason 
already  given ;  namely,  that  she  may  fairly  stand, 
with  modifications,  as  a  type  of  her  Southern  neigh- 
bours. Maryland  had  all  her  features,  though  in 
some  points  less  pronounced.  In  her  inception  she 
had  presented  the  unwonted  spectacle  of  a  Roman 
Catholic  province  inculcating  the  notion  of  complete 
toleration.'  With  time  and  increased  population, 
however,  she  had  drifted  into  a  community  chiefly 
Anglican  in  creed  as  well  as  in  blood  and  sentiment. 
North  Carolina  was  a  rough  and  rude  imitation  of 
both.  Her  upper  class  was  weak,  and  did  not  stand 
out  like  that  of  Virginia.  Though  a  large  slave- 
owning  colony.  North  Carolina  never  achieved  the 
social  4clat  of  her  slave-owning  neighbours.  Her 
population,  though  largely  of  British  origin,  was 
much  less  homogeneous  than  that  of  Virginia, 
which  had  only  a  small  German  element  in  its 
back  country,  and  a  slight  dash  of  Huguenot  blood 
in  its   older  settlements. 

*  In  1692  the  Church  of  England  was  estahlished  by  law,  Dis- 
senters and  Catholics  placed  under  penalties  and  disabilities,  and  a 
tax  of  forty  pounds'  weight  of  tobacco  per  head  enacted  for  the 
support  of  the  clergy.  Protestant  Dissenters  were  soon  released 
from  the  penal  laws,  but  these  remained  in  force  for  Catholics,  as 
did  the  church  tax  for  the  whole  population,  till  the  revolutionary 
war ;  a  strange  return  to  Lord  Baltimore  and  the  Catholic  founders 
of  the  province. 

21 


I 


1 


w 


m 


% 


I 


T^ 


I 


LIFE  IN  SOUTH  CAROLINA 

South  Carolina,  on  the  other  hand,  had  a  well-to- 
do,  woU-educated,  and  powerful,  though  small,  aristo- 
cracy. They  drew  their  wealth  from  slave -tilled 
plantations  of  rice  and  indigo ;  but,  unlike  the  Vir- 
ginians, who  loved  a  country  life  and  hated  towns, 
the  South  Carolina  planter  was  also  a  merchant, 
and  lived  mostly  in  Charleston,  which  seaport  had 
some  reputation  for  social  elegance  and  even  intel- 
lectual activity.  There  were  plain  up-country  farmers, 
however,  even  then  in  South  Carolina,  largely  Scotch- 
Irish,  and  many  "  poor  whites."  ^  There  was  a  great 
deal  of  Huguenot  blood,  too,  in  the  colony,  though 
the  tone  of  life  was  wholly  English.  Of  Georgia, 
which  was  destined  to  run  upon  similar  lines,  there 
is  no  need  to  speak,  as  she  was  still  in  her  infancy. 

>To^^- ' '  gre  had  been  no  considerable  immigration 
to  A  -iiC"  during  the  first  half  of  the  eighteenth 
century.  The  increase  of  population,  though  it 
had  ^-.pen  rapid,  was  mainly  native  born.  The  chief 
exception  to  u.w  r^as  furnished  by  the  Scotch-Irish 
exiles  who  sincf  tne  beginning  of  the  century  had 


ii  t 


I 


i 


*  South  Carolina  approximated  more  nearly  to  a  West  India 
colony.  Its  merchant-planters  visited  England  more  than  any 
other  American  community.  Charleston,  though  small,  was  taste- 
fully huilt,  and  much  admired  hy  strangers.  Trade  restrictions, 
which  in  various  ways  irritated  other  colonies,  did  not  affect  S. 
Carolina.  It  was  prosperous  and  growing  wealthy,  and  had  no 
reservations  in  its  devotion  to  the  British  Crown.  Colonial  visitors 
from  the  u.-^rth  remarked  on  the  richness  of  the  dress  of  both  men 
and  women.  The  church  and  parish  formed  the  unit  of  local 
government.  Most  of  its  higher  class  were  sent  to  England  for 
their  education.  Out  of  over  a  hundred  American  students  entered 
at  the  Inns  of  Court  during  the  years  following  the  French  war, 
nearly  half,  says  a  recent  American  historian,  came  from  S.  Caro- 
lina alone — small  as  she  was ;  a  significant  test  of  her  social  de- 
velopment and  intellectual  alertness. 

22 


'1^ 


THE  ULSTER  IMMIGRANTS  IN  AMERICA 


been  leaving  Londonderry  and  Belfast  in  a  steady 
stream.  They  had  been  introduced  there,  as  every 
one  knows,  to  fight  the  wild  Celt  of  Ulster  and  to 
reclaim  the  lands  he  would  not  till,  and  they 
had  done  both  with  conspicuous  success.  North- 
eastern Ireland  from  a  blood-stained  wilderness  had 
become  a  land  of  plenty,  busy  with  the  hum  of  trade 
and  agriculture.  But  the  English  merchants  were 
afraid  of  the  new  linen  trade  that  was  arising  in 
Ireland,  and  the  Anglo-Irish  bishops  did  not  like  the 
Presbyterians.  So  the  Irish  linen  trade  was  crippled 
as  the  wool  trade  had  been  destroyed,  and  the  Presby- 
terian religion  was  treated  on  a  par  with  that  of 
Rome.  The  first  piece  of  insanity  was  the  work  of 
the  English  Government,  the  second  that  of  the  Irish 
House  of  Lords,  under  the  influence  of  the  Irish 
bishops.  In  the  latter  case,  the  efforts  to  emanci- 
pate the  Presbyterians,  which  the  whole  kingdom 
approved  of,  were  defeated  by  the  Anglican  prelates 
in  the  Dublin  Parliament  by  methods  familiar  enough 
to  those  acquainted  with  the  performances  of  that 
strange  assembly.  The  irony  of  the  matter  was  not 
only  that  the  Scotch  inmiigrants  had  created  indus- 
trial Ulster,  and  had  covered  themselves  with  glory 
as  a  loyal  garrison  at  a  great  crisis,  but  that  their 
crime  lay  in  adhering  to  the  form  of  Protestantism 
which  was  actually  recognised  by  their  persecutors  as 
the  established  religion  of  the  country  their  ancestors 
had  left  at  the  king's  invitation  ! 

These  two  crushing  blows,  falling  near  together, 
drove  from  a  country  that  sorely  needed  them 
thousands  of  an  industrious,  hardy,  virile,  and 
God-fearing  stock.  It  is  said  that  a  hundred  thou- 
sand of  these  Ulster  Protestants  crossed  the  Atlantic 

23 


1 


I 


'  I 


i 


n 


\ 


i: 


f 


'/: 


'■ 


ULSTER   BLOOD   IN  AMERICA 

in  twenty  years.*  Now  the  Irish  Catholic  immigration 
to  America,  it  should  be  remembered,  is  a  compara- 
tively modem  affair.  Before  the  famine  of  1848-49 
it  was  inconsiderable.  In  the  first  half  of  the 
eighteenth  century  there  was  practically  no  such 
thing.  The  Scotch-Irishman,  however,  loomed  always 
large  as  a  strenuous  and  picturesque  figure  in  that 
critical  and  picturesque  period.  To  come  of  Scotch- 
Irish  blood  is  held  to  be  of  itself  a  good  thing 
among  Americans  of  colonial  stock.  The  other  sort 
of  Irishman  has,  on  the  contrary,  to  face  a  prejudice 
almost  inconceivable  to  the  Englishman  unacquainted 
with  American  social  life — a  prejudice  aggravated,  no 
doubt,  by  the  conspicuous  part  which  he  plays  in  the 
more  disreputable  phases  of  American  politics. 

The  Scotch-Irishman  as  a  historical  figure  is  re- 
garded with  no  little  respect,  and  justly  so,  as 
having  been  one  of  the  stoutest  contributors  to  the 
making  of  America.  These  early  immigrants  went 
scarcely  at  all  to  the  New  England  colonies,  landing 
principally  at  Philadelphia,  and  in  lesser  numbers  at 
Charleston.  They  seemed  determined  not  to  place 
themselves  again  in  the  power  of  any  Government,  or 
again  to  trust  themselves  within  reach  of  sectarian 
jealousy  or  unfriendly  legislation.  They  found  their 
way  in  no  long  time  to  the  back-country  of  Pennsyl- 
vania on  the  north,  and  to  that  of  the  Carolinas  on  the 


} 


l)K 


*  A  fresh  wave  of  Ulster  emigration  reached  America  just  prior 
to  the  revolutionary  war,  when,  the  long  leases  under  Lord  Donegal 
and  other  great  proprietors  falling  in,  heavier  fines  for  renewal 
and  higher  rents  were  asked  than  the  old  tenants  would  face. 
Catholic  competition,  however,  maintained  the  price  asked ;  and  the 
Presbyterian  exiles,  full  of  bitterness,  joined  Washington's  armies 
in  large  numbers. 

24 


THE  SCOTCH-IRISH  BOBDEBEBS 


south,  and  threw  themselves,  in  both  cases,  with  con- 
summate courage  upon  the  forest-covered  barrier  which 
was  then  the  Ultima  Thule  of  Anglo-Saxon  America. 
Being  continually  reinforced  from  Ulster,  they  gradu- 
ally pushed  on  to  the  rear  of  the  outermost  colonial 
settlement  along  the  base  of  the  Alleghany  moun- 
tains.    Those  from  Pennsylvania  crept  slowly  south- 
wards into  Virginia.    Those  from  the  Carolinas  moved 
northwards   in   the    same    fashion,   till    the    second 
generation  of  the  original  immigrants  formed  a  con- 
tinuous though  thin   line  of  settlements,  stretching 
behind  the  Southern  colonies  from  Pennsylvania  to 
Georgia  :  a  vanguard  of  virile  f rontiermen,  who  were 
equally  handy  with  plough,  axe,  rifle,  or  tomahawk. 
They  crossed  the  line  of  five  colonies,  but  had  little 
traffic  with  any,  being,  in  fact,  a  people  unto  them- 
selves, worshipping   God  in  their  own  fashion,  and 
educating  their  children  to  the  best  of  their  power, 
as  they  pushed  their  clearings  deep  into  the  shadow  of 
the  AUeghanies,  and  fought  Indians  so  continuously 
that  their  austere  natures  took  on,  in  some  sort,  the 
bloody  traditions  of  the  wilderness.     If    they  lost 
something  of  their  old-country  morality  and  piety, 
they  were  of  inestimable  service  in  defending  the 
Indian  frontier  and  in  later  times  conquering  and 
settling  the  States  that  lay  immediately  behind  it. 
To  meet  the  Indian  of  that  period  in   the   woods 
upon  equal  terms  required  a  special  training  and  an 
exceptional  hardiness.     The  average  colonist  was  no 
match  for  him.    The  rangers  of  New  England  and 
the    Scotch-Irish    frontiermen    of    the    middle    and 
Southern  colonies  were  almost  the  only  men   who 
could  be  relied  upon  to  successfully  face  them  in  the 
woods  upon  anything  like  erual  terms.     The  battle 

25 


t 


If 


111 


.! 


I 


BACKWOODSMEN  AND  INDIANS 

of  the  Great  Kennawha,  fought  a  quarter  of  a 
century  later  between  a  thousand  picked  borderers 
and  a  thousand  Indians,  is,  in  the  opinion  of  the 
best  living  authority,  Mr.  Theodore  Roosevelt,  the 
first  occasion  on  which  a  body  of  Americans  defeated 
an  Indian  force  of  like  strength  in  a  pitched  battle 
in  the  forest.  I  mention  this  to  give  some  notion  of 
the  quality  of  the  foe  whom  English  and  French  alike 
had  to  face,  and  that  ideas  derived  from  the  dis- 
crepancy in  arms  between  modern  civilization  and 
barbarism  may  not  obscure  the  tremendous  difficulties 
of  Indian  warfare  in  eighteenth-century  America. 

The  red  man  was  not  quite  such  a  sure  shot  as 
the  American  borderer,  but  he  was  better  at  taking 
cover  and  at  ambuscades  than  even  the  most  accom- 
plished backwoodsman.  His  discipline,  too,  which 
perhaps  sounds  strange,  was  better.  He  was  rarely 
foolhardy,  for  a  warrior's  life  was  precious  to  the 
tribe.  A  maximum  of  damage  to  the  foe  with  a 
minimum  of  loss  to  themselves  was  the  recognised 
Indian  principle ;  and  when  this  was  practised  by 
crafty  savages,  who  scarcely  knew  what  fear  meant, 
it  told  heavily  against  white  men,  who  frequently 
threw  their  lives  away  in  useless  exhibitions  of 
courage,  and  often  refused  to  recognise  inevitable 
defeat.  It  must  not,  however,  be  supposed  that, 
these  Alleghany  borderers  were  all  Scotch  Irish- 
men. They  formed  indeed  the  main  element,  but 
many  Germans,  as  well  as  adventurers  from  the 
English  settlements,  joined  their  communities,  sharing 
the  perils  of  the  border  wars,  and  the  scarcely  less 
hazardous  pursuits  of  an  ever-doubtful  and  precarious 
peace. 

Nor  in  these  remarks  on  the  various  colonies  have 

26 


i 


/■;- 


COLONIAL  GOVERNMENTS 


I  said  anything  of  their  Governments  or  their  rela- 
tions with  the  Crown.  The  subject  in  detail  is  so 
complicated  that  an  entire  chapter  would  not  cover  it. 
Fortunately,  however,  there  was  such  a  general 
family  resemblance  between  them  in  this  particular 
that  a  page  or  two  will  be  sufficient  for  what  is 
necessary  here.  Some  of  the  colonies  were  still  pro- 
prietary, some  had  long  ceased  to  be,  others  never  had 
been.  The  difference  was  not  so  material  as  it  sounds. 
The  proprietors  of  colonies  such  as  Pennsylvania  and 
Maryland  held  them  in  fief  from  the  Crown,  as  the 
English  Palatinates  of  Durham,  Chester,  and  the 
Welsh  Marches  had  once  been  held,  and  they  were 
subject  to  the  same  Imperial  restrictions  as  their  non- 
proprietary neighbours.  In  some  colonies,  therefore, 
the  Governor  was  appointed  by  the  proprietors;  in 
others  by  the  Crown,  represented  by  the  Board  of 
Trade.  He  was  generally  an  Englishman,  though 
there  are  many  instances  of  the  honour  being  con- 
ferred on  prominent  colonists.  In  all  cases,  however, 
the  Governor  was  supported  by  a  council,  usually 
twelve  in  number,  appointed  for  life  by  the  Crown, 
either  directly  or  through  himself  as  its  represen- 
tative. Besides  this,  and  of  at  least  equal  import- 
ance, was  an  elective  assembly.  The  Governors 
more  often  than  not  were  represented  in  the  colony 
by  a  deputy.  They  were  by  no  m.eans  the  digni- 
fied and  hospitality-dispensing  figureheads  that  now 
preside  over  our  constitutional  colonies.  Their  in- 
fluence was  very  real,  their  seat  a  thorny  one.  They 
had  to  uphold  the  rights  of  the  Crown  in  the  face 
of  constant  attempts  to  encroach  upon  it.  They 
were  the  dispensers  of  all  patronage,  though  the 
home  Government  sometimes    went    behind  them, 

27 


1 


li 


'I' 


■f 
w 


THE  COLONIAL  GOVERNORS 

and  the  colonial  assemblies  were  frequently  fight- 
ing for  a  share  of  it.  The  power  of  the  purse  lay 
with  the  assembly,  which  was  apt  to  be  nig- 
gardly to  a  degree  in  everything  except  the  salaries 
of  its  own  members.  That  of  the  Governor,  too, 
was  in  their  power,  and  they  used  this  power 
freely  to  squeeze  concessions  out  of  him.  It  is 
scarcely  too  much  to  say  that  the  legislature  of 
every  colony  was  in  a  chronic  state  of  friction  with 
its  Governor.  That  the  majority  of  these  were  r 
of  very  middling  capacity  goet  almost  without  say*..,, 
in  a  period  when  jobbery  was  the  mainspring  of  all 
political  patronage. 

It  is  only  natural,  too,  at  a  time  when  bribery  and 
corruption  were  a  matter  of  course  in  the  mother 
country  that  the  colonial  Governor's  patronage  was 
often  not  above  suspicion  of  similar  methods,  a 
state  of  things  which  the  disappointed  aspirants 
for  local  office,  it  need  hardly  be  said,  resented  with 
much  virtuous  indignation.  But  appointments  in 
those  days  were  at  least  made  from  the  class  presum- 
ably best  qualified  to  fill  them,  and  even  in  V 
matter  of  honesty  and  public  spirit  would  comp' 
extremely  favourably  with  the  type  of  individual 
that  the  enlightened  elector  of  modem  New  York  or 
Philadelphia  has  to  behold  with  resignation  entrusted 
with  the  control  of  public  affairs  and  the  public 
purse.  Nor  were  the  colonial  Governors  by  any 
means  men  always  wanting  in  discretion  and  ability, 
as  we  shall  see.  But  whether  good  or  bad  they  were 
equally  the  object  upon  which  the  colonial  burgess 
vented  his  suspicion,  his  discontent,  his  economic 
theories  or  his  eloquence.  It  was  the  duty  of  the 
Governor  to  direct  the  Indian  policy  of  the  colony, 

28 


A; 


■..-—..''•'*  •■•"^'' *■*■'** '"    ■■  irf''*''"*'**"^'" 


DIFFICULTIES  OF  CO-OPERATION 


to  attempt  combination  with  other  colonies  for 
offence  or  defence,  and  to  do  his  best  to  see  that  the 
navigation  laws,  which  forbad  exports  to  any 
country  but  England  and  in  any  but  English  ships, 
were  enforced.  The  duties  of  a  colonial  Governor,  in 
short,  were  wearing  and  irksome  ones.  Hk  salary 
was  not  usually  a  large  one ;  at  any  rate,  that  of  a 
Deputy  Governor's  was  not :  and  he  had  often  to 
fight  his  assembly  for  the  full  amount  of  even  that 
modest  remuneration. 

It  will  now,  I  trust,  be  obvious  how  ill  adapted  were 
these  disintegrated  and  self-absorbed  provinces  for 
effective  and  active  combination.  The  vast  distances 
that  separated  them,  with  the  consequent  lack  of 
intercourse  and  communications,  the  abundant  elbow- 
room  that  each  still  enjoyed,  the  jealousies  and 
mutual  prejudices  which  swayed  them,  the  number 
of  Governments  that  had  to  be  consulted,  with 
their  narrow  views  and  diverging  interests,  all  con- 
spired to  make  unity  well-nigh  impossible.  It  was 
fortunate  that  a  handful  of  men  were  found  who 
rose  superior  to  these  difficulties,  or,  to  be  more 
exact,  saw  at  a  glance  their  insuperable  nature  and 
aroused  England  to  her  danger  before  it  was  too  late. 

Let  us  now  turn  to  Canada,  the  seat  of  French 
transatlantic  power,  and  note  the  contrast  she  pre- 
sented. Her  southern  boundary  was  roughly  identi- 
cal with  that  which  now  divides  ithe  Dominion  from 
the  United  States,  except  as  regards  Acadia  or  Nova 
Scotia,  a  province  which,  though  as  yet  peopled  only 
by  French  peasants  or  habitantSt  had  been  for  long 
under  English  rule.  Coming  westward,  however,  to 
Lake  Ontario,  we  approach  more  debateable  ground, 
and  on  passing  the  great  Canadian  fort  at  Niagara 

29 


ti 


i 


CANADA 


!,<: 


k 


l\ 


\i 


i! 


I 


and  reaching  Lake  Erie  the  French  could  look  south- 
ward over  a  vast  country  which  both  nations  vaguely 
claimed. 

So  far  as  the  French  were  concerned,  this  vagueness 
was  now  to  assume  more  definite  shape.  But 
Canadian  life  at  this  time  was  mainly  concentrated 
upon  the  banks  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  having  Montreal 
for  its  western  limit  and  Quebec  with  the  settlements 
immediately  below  it  for  its  eastern  and  greater 
rallying  point.  With  the  numerous  and  scattered 
trading  posts  far  remote  from  these  old-established 
centres  I  will  not  now  burden  the  reader's  mind. 

Though  the  colony  was  actually  much  older,  as 
a  substantial  reality  it  can  only  be  said  to  date  from 
the  immigration  which  Louis  XIV.  poured  into  it 
about  the  middle  of  the  seventeenth  century. 
Founded  by  clerics  of  the  narrowest  ultramontane 
school,  in  a  period  of  over  fifty  years  it  had  only 
accumulated  a  population  of  some  3,000  souls.  The 
pioneering  exploits  of  the  Jesuit  missioners  form  a 
heroic  page  of  American  history,  with  which,  however, 
we  have  nothing  to  do  here.  It  will  be  sufficient  to 
say  that  everything  had  been  made  subsidiary  to 
maintaining  the  religious  dogma  which  had  sent 
these  early  Fathers  cheerfully  to  the  stake  and 
torture.  The  material  result  of  this  policy  was  dis- 
heartening, as  may  be  gathered  from  the  statistics 
quoted  above.  The  feeble  colony  had,  in  fact,  just 
contrived  to  hold  its  own  by  dint  of  hard  fighting 
and  the  divisions  of  its  Indian  enemies,  aided  by  the 
consummate  diplomatic  skill  of  the  Jesuit  pioneers. 

But  Louis  XIV.,  while  still  young,  had  set  himself 
with  no  little  energy  to  rectify  this  state  of  things, 
and  by  dint  of  great  inducements  poured  quite  a  large 

80 


^l 


COLONIAL  ZEAL  OF  LOUIS  XIV.      . 

stream  of  immigrants  into  New  France.  Officers  and 
soldiers  already  out  there  were  given  grants  of  land. 
Peasants,  selected  with  some  care,  were  shipped  out 
from  Dieppe  and  Rochelle,  more  particularly  from 
the  former,  as  the  Huguenot  atmosphere  of  the  Bis- 
cayan  seaport  alarmed  the  rigid  Catholics  of  Quebec. 
No  English  colony  had  been  either  started  or  nourished 
by  the  Crown  in  this  fashion.  Convicts  and  the  victims 
of  unsuccessful  rebellion  were  the  only  class  of  persons 
that  the  British  Government  had  directly  interested 
itself  in  transporting  free  to  its  colonies.  A  remark- 
able feature,  however,  of  this  paternally  organized 
exodus  to  Canada  was  that  families  or  married  couples 
formed  no  part  of  it.  Shipments  of  single  men  were 
forwarded  to  replace  the  bachelor  soldiers  whose 
swords  had  been  turned  into  ploughshares,  and  single 
women  gathered  in  the  same  fashion  and  not  with- 
out care  in  the  selection  were  sent  out  in  succeeding 
shiploads.  Under  the  immediate  supervision  of  the 
Church  these  ex-soldiers  and  imported  maidens,  mak- 
ing choice  as  best  they  could,  were  joined  together 
in  the  bonds  of  matrimony. 

The  girls  were  divided  into  tw^o  classes,  demoiselles 
when  possible  for  the  officer  settlers,  while  the  hum- 
bler majority  were  allotted  to  the  peasant  sol- 
diers. The  king  himself  took  a  keen  interest  in  this 
matrimonial  mart,  and  was  determined  tha,t  Canada 
should  be  populated  without  loss  of  time.  The 
young  Canadian  who  remained  single  was  pulled 
up  before  the  authorities  and  made  to  show  good 
cause  for  his  backwardness,  while  those  who  con- 
tinued obdurate  were  singled  out  for  taxation  and 
other  unpleasant  attentions,  and  their  lives  made 
generally  miserable.      If   a  father    did  not  see  to 

31 


t: 


Ill 


SOCIAL  EVOLUTION  OF  CANADA 

it  that  his  daughter  was  married  on  arriving  at  a 
suitable  age,  he  was  soundly  rated ;  and  if  he  did 
not  then  take  the  hint,  worse  things  befel  him.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  willing  and  blushing  bridegroom 
was  presented  with  a  handsome  bonus,  and  sub- 
stantial premiums  were  offered  to  those  who  con- 
tributed most  abundantly  to  the  increase  of  popu- 
lation. A  noblesse  was  part  of  the  scheme,  and 
a  noblesse  was  consequently  formed  and  gradually 
added  to.  It  was  not  very  easy  to  make  one.  The 
tendency  to  acquire  and  settle  upon  a  large  tract  of 
land  and  gather  dignity  from  the  importance  it  gave, 
which  distinguished  the  Anglo-Saxons  of  the  more 
Southern  colonies,  had  no  counterpart  in  Canada. 
The  French  theory  of  aristocracy  was  somewhat  the 
same ;  but  the  Frenchmen  in  Canada  who  had  to  play 
the  part  were  generally  not  much  better  suited  for  it 
than  was  the  country,  which  gave  but  small  returns 
for  most  laborious  work,  and  whose  social  life  cen- 
tred chiefly  in  one  capital.  A  considerable  number 
of  the  portionless,  lower  noblesse  with  which  France 
swarmed  had  come  out  with  their  regiments  to 
Canada  ;  but  in  spite  of  inducements  to  stay,  most  of 
them,  with  the  natural  gregariousness  of  Frenchmen 
added  to  the  chances  of  military  renown,  had  returned 
to  France.  Blue  blood  and  an  old  name,  both  in  the 
France  and  England  of  that  day,  preferred  the  sword 
to  the  ploughshare  or  the  monotony  of  the  back- 
woods, save  where  really  stirring  adventure  offered 
a  compensation.  American  light  literature,  disre- 
garding accessible  evidence,  and  seizing  with  avidity 
on  any  point  that  breaks  the  democratic  level  of  im- 
migration, has  exaggerated  the  origin  of  the  French 
Canadian  noblesse  as  it  has  done  that  of  the  govem- 

88 


'    I 


t 


J;^ 


CANADIAN  NOBLESSE 


ing  classes  in  the  Southern  colonies,  and  given  them 
glorified  antecedents  which  pale  materially  before 
tixe  light  of  the  simplest  investigation.      A   small 
number,   however,   of    the   petty    French    noblesse, 
officers  chiefly,  were  on  the  spot  to  form  a  nucleus, 
and  to  these  were  rapidly  added  others  who  had  no 
claim  to  birth  or  blood,  but  only  a  little  money  or  a 
little  influence.     What  there  was  of  an  aristocracy  in 
the  English  colonies  had  created  itself  by  acquiring 
land,  which,  under  an  industrial  system,  was  capable 
of  giving  comparative  wealth  and  all  that  this  means. 
There  was  no  scheme  of  a  noblesse,  but  its  Anglo- 
Saxon  equivalent  had  developed  naturally,  and  was 
moreover  of  a  practical  and  unmistakable  description. 
The  Canadian  noblesse,  however,  was  an  artificial 
affair,  a  forced  matter  in  its  inception,  and  though  a 
very  distinct  order  of  society,  acquiring  but  little 
substance.     Just  as  an  early  Governor  of  Virginia 
wrote  that  everybody  wanted  to  be  a  gentleman,  so 
the   seventeenth-century  Governors  of    Canada  re- 
ported that  there  was  a  universal  craving  to  get  a 
patent  of  nobility  with  its  somewhat  barren  accom- 
paniments,  and  assumptions  of    empty  rank  were 
common  and  easy  enough  in  a  country  where  outside 
the  official  class  neither  noble  nor  simple  at  that  time 
earned  much  more  than  their  food  and  clothes.     Seig- 
neuries  large  in  extent,  covered  with  dense  forests, 
cleared  only  on  the  river  front,  formed  the  unit  of 
life  outside  the  few  towns.     The  log-houses  of  the 
peasant  tenantry  extended   along  the  river   front, 
while  the  scarcely  superior  mansion  of  the  seigneur, 
with   the  inevitable  mill  and  not  seldom  a  parish 
church,  stood  close  at  hand.    Trifiing  rents,  and  those 
paid,  when  paid  at  all,  in  kind,  just  served  to  keep 

33  D 


^i 


'I 


A 


m 


ijii 
i 


CANADIAN  SBIGNEURIES 

this  strange  species  of  nobleman  and  his  family  in 
food  and  clothes.  Even  this  result  was  not  always 
achieved,  kings  of  France  having  more  than  once  to 
send  out  provisions  to  save  their  transatU  .ntic  nobility 
from  starvation.  Sometimes  even  their  wiv«js  and 
daughters  worked  in  the  field.  Whatever  his  origin^ 
however,  once  ennobled,  the  seigneur  was  not  at 
liberty  to  follow  any  trade  or  calling,  and  it  is  small 
wonder  that  "  sloth  and  pride,"  according  to  contem- 
porary French  writers,  were  his  distinguishing  points. 
But  these  very  attributes  and  the  conditions  of  his  life, 
while  inimical  to  success  in  peace,  made  him  formid- 
able in  war.  The  ragged  Canadian  gentilhomme^  in- 
ured to  the  chase  and  a  stranger  to  luxury,  equally 
at  home  in  the  trackless  forest  or  on  the  boiling  rapid, 
was  the  heau  ideal  of  an  irregular  soldier.  Brave, 
hardy,  adventurous,  and  somewhat  callous  to  human 
suffering,  he  was  an  admirable  leader  to  a  peasantry 
who  shared  most  of  his  qualities  and  were  only  less 
ready  than  himself  to  answer  the  call  to  arms.' 

But  by  the  period  we  are  treating  of  Canada  had 
made  some  advance  in  prosperity,  and  in  normal  times 
was  at  least  self-supporting.  There  were  a  few  pros- 
perous seigneuries  and  a  handful  of  well-to-do  seig- 
neurs, though  whether  rich  or  poor  the  pride  of  caste, 
greatly  aided  by  ofi&cial  encouragement,  had  been 
maintained.  But  neither  seigneur  nor  habitant  had 
any  share  in  the  government  of  the  country,  which 
was  wholly  autocratic. 

In  the  city  of  Quebec,  unsurpassed  for  its  pride  of 
pose  by  any  capital  in  the  world,  was  centred  the 

*  Dr.  Kalm  and  La  Hontaine,  among  others,  have  left  interesting 
pictures  of  Canadian  life  as  they  saw  it  in  the  middle  and  the 
beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century,  respectively. 

34 


i 


m- 


le  of 
the 


GOVERNMENT  OP  CANADA 

power  to  which  all    Canada  yielded  unquestioned 
obedience.     There,  in  the  chateau  of  St.  Louis,  upon 
the  famous  rock,  whence  cannon  frowned  over  the 
spires  and  gables  of  church  and  monastery,  sat  the 
all-powerful  Viceroy  of  the  King  of  France.     Nor 
was  he,  like  the  governor  of  an  English  province, 
commissioned  to  this  important  post  with  little  or 
no  regard  to  personal  capacity.     On  the    contrary, 
much  care  was  usually  exercised   in   his   selection. 
He  was  nearly  always  a  fighting  man  or  statesman 
of  approved  ability ;    sometimes  he  was  both.     To 
speak  of  him,  however,  as  all-powerful  is   perhaps 
hardly  accurate.     It  would  be  more  exact  to  describe 
him  as  the  leader  of  a  Triumvirate,  of  whom  the 
other  members  were  the  Intendant  and  the  Arch- 
bishop.    The  former  of  these  two  functionaries  was 
a  person  of  legal  acquirements  rather  than  of  rank. 
He  looked  after  the  finances,  and  to  some  extent 
shared  the  government  with  his  chief.     He  did  much 
of    the   confidential    correspondence  of   the  colony 
with  the  home  authorities,  and  may  be  described  as 
a  check  in  the  king's  interest  upon  the  absolutism  of 
the   Governor.     The  third  member  of  the  trio,  the 
Archbishop,  guarded  the  interests  of  the  powerful 
Church  of  Canada,  with  its  monasteries,  convents, 
colleges,   and    wide    landed    ^possessions,    and    kept 
watch  over  that   supremacy  which  it  regarded  as 
vital  to  the  salvation  of  Canadians  and  in  some  sort 
its  due  on  account  of  the  great  share  it  had  taken  in 
the  early  struggles  of  the  colony.     To  this  triumvi- 
rate was  joined  in  times  of  stress  a  military  com- 
mander, as   will  be  amply  demonstrated  later  on. 
However  much  these  officials  might  disagree  among 
themselves  in  times  of  peace,  when  outside  danger 


H 


V       I. 


[ 


THE  FRENCH  FUB  TBADE 


I 


w 


i 


i '  \ 


threatened  they  sank  their  differences  for  the 
moment,  and  showed  a  united  front.  In  Govern- 
ment circles,  the  ecclesiastics  and  perhaps  the 
Governor  himself  excepted,  a  system  of  monstrous 
corruption  flourished.  The  fur  trade,  which  formed 
the  real  wealth  of  the  colony,  though  little  enough 
of  it  remained  there,  was  practically  a  Government 
monopoly.  It  employed  perhaps  a  third  of  the 
Canadian  population,  at  bare  living  wages,  and 
made  the  fortune,  by  means  of  well-understood 
devices,  of  a  small  handful  of  officials,  who  hurried 
back  to  France  with  their  gains.  Supplies,  too,  as 
well  as  large  sums  of  money,  were  continually  pour- 
ing into  Canada  for  public  purposes,  and  were 
manipulated  by  the  official  clique  at  Quebec,  with  a 
corrupt  disregard  for  the  public  welfare  that  even 
for  those  days  was  remarkable. 

In  spite  of  all  this,  however,  a  fine  daring  and  much 
patriotic  zeal  animated  the  French  Canadian  people 
as  a  whole.  Bigoted,  ignorant,  and  superstitious,  they 
marched  against  English  Protestants  or  Indian 
savages  as  upon  a  crusade.  They  had  infinite  belief 
in  their  superiority  to  the  former,  and  a  childlike 
faith  in  anything  told  them  by  their  ecclesiastics, 
who  beyond  a  doubt  severely  tested  their  credulity. 
The  spacious  West,  to  which  they  all  had  access  at 
one  time  or  another,  was  the  finest  of  schools  for 
backwoods  warfare,  while  the  habit  of  obedience  to 
social  or  military  superiors  went  hand  in  hand  with 
an  unquestioning  loyalty  to  their  Church.  They 
had  been  accustomed  to  ravage  the  New  England 
frontier,  and  having  often  got  the  better  of  the 
industrious  Puritan  farmer  had  imbibed  some  con- 
tempt  for  the    colonial    Englishman  as  a  soldier, 

36 


BIGOTRY  TOWARDS  PROTESTANTS 


the 


which  an  extraordinarily  boastful  temperament  made 
appear  even  yet  more  blatant.  The  impecunious, 
idle,  and  numerous  noblesse  were  always  at  hand  to 
lead  in  every  kind  of  adventure.  Numbers  of  them 
lived  almost  wholly  in  the  woods  among  the  Indians, 
adopting  their  dress  and  costumes,  egging  them  on 
against  the  English  settlements,  and  frequently  lead- 
ing them  on  their  bloody  raids. 

What  might  have  happened  had  not  the  fatuous 
bigotry  of  the  Canadian  priesthood  repulsed  the 
Huguenot  from  their  shores,  one  almost  shrinks  from 
contemplating.  If  the  French  and  Canadian  Govern- 
ment had  been  as  tolerant  and  far-sighted  in  this 
particular  as  in  some  others,  and  given  an  opportu- 
nity to  the  most  virile  blood  of  France,  which  for  so 
m.any  generations  invigorated  that  of  other  nations 
and  their  colonies,  history  must  have  been  written 
differently.  But,  compared  with  that  steady,  plod- 
ding subjection  of  the  wilderness  by  the  British 
colonist,  Canadian  civilization  was  a  failure.  One 
can  have  nothing,  however,  but  admiration  for  the 
courage  and  enterprise  with  which  its  people  faced 
the  unknown  in  the  trackless,  perilous  path  of  the 
fur  trade.  Montreal  was  the  depot  and  starting- 
point  for  all  concerned  in  it,  and  stood  near  the 
Western  limit  of  civilization.  Frontenac,  where 
Kingston  now  stands,  was  the  first  great  outpost  in 
the  forests  beyond.  Niagara,  whose  name  indicates 
its  position,  was  a  still  remoter  station  of  great  im- 
port, and  Detroit,  yet  further  on,  was  a  still  larger 
one.  The  stormy  waters  of  Lake  Superior  were 
familiar  even  then  to  the  French  voyageur,  whose 
canoe  crept  along  its  gloomy  shores  and  exploited 
its  lonely  bays.     Even  this,  however,  seems  almost 

37 


I 


I 


ENTERPRISE  OP  FRENCH  TRADERS 


:li 


^sl 


''I 


H 


^ 


as  nothing  to  the  astonishing  remoteness  at  which 
stockaded  forts  held  hy  small  hands  of  hardy- 
Frenchmen  were  to  be  found.  To  many  of  us  in 
middle  age  it  seems  only  yesterday  that  the  man 
who  settled  on  the  prairies  beyond  Fort  Garry  (now 
Winnipeg),  was  regarded  as  a  veritable  pioneer.  An 
air  of  mystery  still  surrounded  the  "Great  Lone 
Land,"  and  one  gazed  on  the  grey  tombstones*  of 
Scottish  traders  of  the  early  nineteenth  century 
with  something  like  awe.  But  the  French  were 
here  trying  to  choke  the  infant  efforts  of  the 
Hudson  Bay  Company  quite  early  in  the  century 
before.  They  had  not  only  stations  on  the  Lake  of 
the  Woods  and  the  Red  River,  but  actually  on  the 
Saskatchewan  itself.  In  days  when  a  letter  some- 
times took  a  week  upon  the  short  route  from  New 
York  to  Baltimore  in  the  then  heart  of  colonial 
civilization,  the  aloofness  of  these  old  French  out- 
posts is  verily  calculated  to  stagger  the  imagination. 
But  we  shall  have  little  to  do  with  them  here,  and 
before  closing  this  chapter  must  return  to  the  banks 
of  the  St.  Lawrence  to  touch  for  a  moment  upon  the 
military  strength  of  Canada.  The  militia,  in  which 
every  male  between  sixteen  and  sixty  served  under 
compulsion,  were  reckoned  at  this  time  as  between 
15,000  and  20,000.  There  were  also  in  regular  garrison 
some  2,000  troops  of  the  colonial  marine,  officered 
and  mostly  raised  in  France.  There  were  usually,  too, 
some  troops  of  the  line  in  the  colony,  their  numbers 
varying  of  course  with  the  state  of  current  events. 
Of  the  number  of  Indians  utilized  in  war  by  the 
French  it  would  be  vain  to  hazard  any  estimate. 

*  In  the  churchyard  of  the  old  St.  John's  Church,  near  Winni- 
peg. 


I        .'' 


INDIANS 

Save  for  the  celebrated  "  Six  Nations,"  whom  neither 
French  diplomacy  nor  French  successes  could  ever 
wholly  win  from  their  neutrality  and  English 
sympathies,*  most  of  the  Indian  tribes  ultimately 
espoused  their  cause.  There  were  a  large  number, 
too,  of  Mission  Indians,  nominally  Christians,  and 
bound  to  the  interests  of  the  French,  being  under 
the  influence  of  their  priests.  But  of  the  numerous 
wild  tribes  to  the  westward  and  the  fragments  of 
the  neutral  nations  nearer  home,  it  would  be  super- 
fluous to  attempt  a  classification.  To  do  so  would 
be  to  thrust  upon  the  reader  a  mass  of  detail  which 
he  is  probably  neither  prepared  nor  inclined  to  digest, 
even  if  it  were  essential  to  the  understanding  of 
the  great  Anglo-French  struggle,  in  which  I  hope  to 
engage  his  interest. 

*  Originally  "called  the  "Five  Nations,"  consisting  of  the  Mo- 
hawks, Oneidas,  Onondagas,  Cayugas  and  Senecas.  They  occupied 
the  country  stretching  from  Albany  to  Lake  Ontario,  in  the  order 
named.    . 


t 

4 


I 


m 


DE  LA  GALISS0NI£:BE  [1747 


I 


CHAPTER  II 

IT  was  in  the  year  1747,  just  prior  to  the  peace  and 
treaty  of  Aix-la-Chapelle,  that  De  la  Galissoni^re 
arrived  in  Canada  as  its  Governor.  Like  many  of  his 
predecessors,  he  was  a  naval  oflficer,  being,  in  fact,  the 
very  commander  who,  a  few  years  later,  opposed  Byng 
in  the  action  off  Minorca  which  brought  disgrace  and 
death  and  immortality  to  that  unfortunate  admiral. 
Though  of  an  ill  shape,  amounting  almost  to  deform- 
ity, the  new  Governor  was  a  man  of  singular  shrewd- 
ness and  ability,  and  regarded  the  future  of  North 
America  with  anxious  foresight.  For  a  moment  he 
was  chiefly  disturbed  at  the  activity  of  the  small  and 
remote  settlements  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company,  but 
in  a  short  time  the  vaster  and  more  direct  issues 
which  brooded  over  the  West  commanded  his  whole 
attention.  We  have  already  seen  how  long  was  the 
arm  that  France  thrust  out  to  grasp  the  fur-bearing 
regions  of  the  North  and  North- West.  But  to  the 
southwards,  to  that  vast  fat  country  which  in  modem 
parlance  would  be  called  the  middle  West,  she  had 
as  yet  turned  little  of  her  attention.  With  its  head 
resting  on  the  great  Canadian  lakes  and  its  feet  upon 
the  small  French  settlement  of  New  Orleans  and  the 
Gulf  of  Mexico,  this  region  was  still,  if  we  except  that 
imconsidered  factor,  the  indigenous  inhabitant,  a  no- 

40 


1747] 


THE  OHIO  VALLEY 


man's  land.  An  ocean  of  foliage,  almost  unthinkable 
in  its  immensity,  and  only  broken  at  intervals  by  the 
smooth  sheen  of  noble  rivers,  the  white  gleam  of 
turbulent  streams,  or  the  scarcely  noticeable  clearings, 
where  faint  smoke- wreaths  marked  an  Indian  village, 
it  patiently  awaited  the  struggle  that  such  a  virgin 
empire  at  such  a  strenuous  period  was  quite  certain  to 
provoke. 

Viewed  by  the  light  of  modem  times,  all  other 
territories  in  dispute,  or  ripe  for  it,  between  the  two 
nations,  seem  to  sink  into  insignificance  before  this 
great  American  hinterland.^  Nor,  of  course,  was  it 
merely  this  West  of  1747,  this  Mississippi  basin,  that 
was  the  prize,  but  those  greater  and  only  less  fertile 
realms  beyond,  which  in  the  days  I  write  of  had 
hardly  dawned  on  the  vision  of  the  wildest  dreamer. 

It  is  a  curious  reflection  that  a  cork  thrown  into 
a  stream  which  on  an  ordinary  map  of  the  United 
States  would  appear  to  rise  upon  the  very  shores  of 
Lake  Erie,  will  eventually  float  out  through  the 
mouth  of  the  Mississippi  at  New  Orleans  into  the 
Gulf  of  Mexico.  Now  both  Lake  Erie  and  New 
Orleans  were  French,  and  this  network  of  converging 
streams  pouring  southwards  formed  a  link  between 
them,  practically  cutting  North  America  in  twain. 
It  was  this  immense,  well-watered  domain,  lying 
between  the  northern  and  the  far  southern  settle- 
ments of  France,  which  filled  the  mind  and  fired  the 
ambition  of  Galissoniere  and  others  no  less  important 
than  he.  Their  aims,  which  now  began  to  assume 
definite  shape,  were  to  form  a  far-extended  line  of 


" 


*■  India  lends  itself  in  no  way  to  comparison  with  the  settlement 
of  new  countries. 


'f< 


CLAIMS  OF  FRANCE  AND  ENGLAND   [1749 

forts  from  the  headwaters  to  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio 
River ;  and  to  gain  over  the  Indians  of  all  this  region, 
both  by  energetic  intrigues  against  the  English,  and, 
what  was  still  more  effective,  by  a  military  occu- 
pation of  it  and  a  display  of  force  which  would  be 
sufficient  to  intimidate  all  European  interlopers. 
This  achieved,  it  was  thought  not  unlikely  that  a 
fresh  wave  of  French  immigration  might  give  solidity 
to  the  occupation,  and  that  the  English  would  thus — 
so  they  dared  to  hope — be  permanently  hemmed  in 
behind  the  Alleghanies,  which  formed  a  continuous 
and  formidable  rampart  between  this  new  country 
and  the  thirteen  colonies. 

Both  nations  claimed  the  Ohio  Valley,  the  French 
on  account  of  La  Salle's  discovery  of  the  Mississippi 
a  century  before ;  the  English  for  the  more  tangible 
reason  that  the  land  of  promise  lay  immediately 
behind  and  adjacent  to  their  own  colonies,  and  that 
their  traders  had  been  for  long  accustomed  to  cross 
the  mountains  in  considerable  numbers.  But  claims 
which  clashed  so  hopelessly  could  not  be  settled  by 
treaties,  and  the  French  were  by  a  long  way  the  first 
to  recognise  that  they  would  be  settled  by  the  sword. 
The  treaty  of  Aix-la-Chapelle  could  do  nothing  to 
determine  such  hopelessly  conflicting  views,  though 
Commissioners  sat  for  months  endeavouring  with 
much  futile  diligence  to  adjust  the  comparatively 
simple  question  of  international  boundary  lines  in 
Nova  Scotia  and  the  adjoining  mainland. 

It  was  not,  however,  till  the  summer  of  1749  that 
De  la  Galissoni^re  started  the  first  French  expedition 
to  the  Ohio,  a  purely  prospective  one,  and  only  just 
strong  enough  to  protect  itself  from  possible  Ir  ^ian 
hostilities.    It  comprised  some  fourteen  o^         and 

42 


1749]  THE  OHIO  FRENCH  TERRITORY 


cadets,  twenty  French  regulars,  a  hundred  and  eight 
Canadians,  and  a  few  Indians. 

Leaving  Montreal  in  early  summer,  they  passed  up 
Lake  Ontario,  and  carrying  their  canoes  round  the 
falls  and  rapids  of  Niagara,  pushed  up  Lake  Erie  as 
far  as  the  present  village  of  Portland.     Here  they 
landed,   and,    laden   with    their    hoats    and    packs, 
scaled  the  lofty  ridges  on  whose  further  slopes  the 
fountain   springs   of   the   Ohio  basin  gather  in    the 
now   familiar   waters   of    Chatauqua    Lake.        Lfter 
infinite  toil  through  pathless  forests  and  down  rocky 
shallow  streams,  they  reached  within  a  month  the 
broader  current  of  one  of  the  forks   of   the  Ohio, 
now  known  as  the  Alleghany.    A  French  captain,  De 
G^loron,  was  in  command,  and  among  his  portables 
he  carried  a  number  of  leaden  plates  bearing  signifi- 
cant inscriptions,  and  as  many  tin  shields  engraven 
with  the  arms  of   France.      On  reaching  the  Alle- 
ghany River  he  buried  one  of  the  first  of  these  in 
the  ground,  and  nailed  one  of  the  latter  to  a  tree, 
formally  proclaiming  at  the  same  time  that  he  re- 
asserted the  dominion  of  the  king  his  master  over 
the  whole   region.     The  words  inscribed  upon  the 
leaden  plates  ran  as  follows :   "  Year    1749   in  the 
reign  of  Louis  XV.,  King  of  France.     We,  C^loron, 
commanding  the  detachment  sent  by  the  Marquis  de 
la  Galissoni^re,  Commandant  General  of  New  France, 
to  re-establish  tranquillity  in  certain  Indian  villages 
in  these  cantons,  have  buried  this  plate  at  the  meet- 
ing of  the  Ohio  and  Tchadakoin  this  29th  July,  as  a 
mark  of  the  renewal  of   possession  which  we  had 
formerly  taken  of  the  aforesaid  river  Ohio  and  all  its 
feeders,   and  all  territory  upon  both  sides  of    the 
aforesaid  streams  as  former  Kings  of  France  have 

43 


rt, 


I 


I! 


1^, 


t 


il 


#•* 


THE  FRENCH  ON  THE  OHIO    [1749 

enjoyed  or  ought  to  have  enjoyed,  and  which  they 
have  maintained  by  force  of  arms  and  by  treaties, 
especially  by  those  of  Byswick,  Utrecht,  and  Aix-la- 
Chapelle." 

Within  living  memory  more  than  one  of  these 
plates  have  been  cast  up  by  the  rage  of  streams  that 
now  turn  the  mill-V' heels  and  bear  the  commerce  of 
a  stirring  Anglo-Saxon  life.  Grim  spectres,  as  it 
were,  from  the  grave  where  lie  buried  and  forgotten 
the  splendid  dreams  of  the  old  pioneers  of  France, 
they  may  still  be  seen  amid  the  curiosities  of 
museums,  and  pondered  over  as  rare  object-lessons 
on  the  vanity  of  human  hopes. 

There  is  no  need  here  to  dwell  in  detail  on  the 
doings  of  this  advanced;'guard,  these  heralds  of  an  ap- 
proaching  conflict,  whose  gravity  they  themselves  so 
little  realized  as  they  paddled  their  bark  canoes  down 
the  buoyant  streams  of  "La  belle  riviere."  Indian 
viUages,  breaking  the  dense  wall  of  bordering  forests, 
by  the  river  side,  they  found  in  plenty,  where  Dela- 
wares,  Shpwanoes,  and  Mingoes  dwelt,  with  a 
fat  end  iertile  country  spreading  all  around.  Buf- 
falo browsed  in  rich  meadows  of  b)i\e  grass  and 
wild  clover,  while  elk  and  deer  anged  through 
stately  forests  whose  timber  spoke  of  a  soil  more 
generous  and  a  clime  less  stern  than  that  which  they 
had  left  on  the  banks  of  the  St.  Lawrence.  Every- 
where De  C^loron  and  his  followers  proclaimed  their 
peaceful  intentions — a  very  necessary  precaution,  in 
truth,  for  so  weak  a  force — and  protested  that  their 
only  object  in  undertaking  so  toilsome  a  journey  was 
to  warn  their  Indian  brothers  of  the  treacherous  de- 
signs of  the  English.  Everywhere,  however,  to  their 
chagrin,  they  were  received  without  enthusiasm,  and 

44 


1749]  INDIANS  SHOW  NO  CORDIALITY 

sometimes  in  a  fashion  that  threatened  to  become 
serious.  In  almost  every  village  they  found  a  hand- 
ful of  English  traders,  whom  they  warned  off  as 
trespassers  on  French  territory,  producing  in  justifi- 
cation of  their  course  a  written  treaty  that  was 
capable  of  almost  any  sort  of  interpretation.  The 
Indians  showed  no  disposition  to  be  rid  of  the  traders, 
though  it  was  not  worth  the  latter's  while  to  resist  an 
order  that  could  be  laughed  at  the  moment  the  French 
had  turned  ^jheir  backs.  So  everything  went  off  plea- 
santly. The  Indians  drank  a  good  deal  of  brandy 
at  the  expense  of  their  father  Onontio  (the  French 
king),  and  listened  stolidly  to  lengthy  orations  in 
which  they  were  assured  that  the  English  were  their 
real  foes,  and  that  it  was  not  trade  they  desired,  but 
land,  which  was  perfectly  true  so  far  as  the  colonists 
collectively  were  concerned,  for  there  were  land 
companies  at  that  very  moment  blossoming  out  both 
in  Virginia  and  Pennsylvania.  The  French,  so  the 
Indians  were  assured,  were  their  true  and  only 
brothers,  while  their  father  Onontio,  if  they  would 
only  believe  it,  was  a  very  paragon  of  parents.  More 
tin  shields  were  nttiled  to  trees,  and  more  leaden 
plates  buried,  the  last  of  them  by  the  banks  of  the 
Great  Kennawha,  in  the  present  State  of  West  Vir- 
ginia. 

After  a  toilsome  pilgrimage,  accounted  by  the  tra- 
vellers as  not  less  than  3,000  miles,  De  C^loron,  with 
a  somewhat  diminished  company,  arrived  once  more 
at  Montreal,  possessed  of  the  uncomfortable  convic- 
tion that  leadon  plates  and  tin  shields,  and  the  bless- 
ings of  Onontio  would  go  a  very  short  way  towards 
securing  tfc-n  earthly  paradise  for  France.  It  was  a 
lamentable  but  undeniable  fact,  ho  declared  to  the 

45 


\ 


;  I 


?< 


-r 


ir 


DE  CELORON'S  REPORT 


[1749 


n\ 


\  I 


•    H 


¥1; 


new  Governor  of  Canada,  Jonqui^re,  who  had 
arrived  in  his  absence,  that  the  English  traders  could 
easily  undersell  their  own,  that  rivalry  in  this  par- 
ticular was  impossible,  and  that  the  Indians  were 
everywhere  well  disposed  towards  the  English.  The 
latter,  he  declared,  must  at  all  hazards  be  kept  upon 
the  east  of  the  Alleghanies,  and  the  Ohio  Valley 
preserved  from  their  intrusion.  De  C^loron  had,  in 
fact,  despatched  during  his  wanderings  a  civilly  worded 
letter  to  the  Governor  of  Pennsylvania,  from  whose 
borders  came  the  majority  of  traders  encountered 
by  the  French,  expressing  surprise  that  the  English 
should  be  making  so  free  with  territory  that  lall  the 
world  knew  was  the  property  of  his  most  Catholic 
Majesty.  But  if  His  Excellency  of  Pennsylvania 
ever  received  it,  it  is  quite  certain  he  never  vouchsafed 
a  reply.  This  expedition,  though  we  have  passed  over 
it  lightly,  was  geographically  and  politically  an  ex- 
tremely important  one.  But  the  English  colonists 
knew  almost  nothing  of  it.  Even  their  few  far- 
sighted  leaders  scarcely  took  notice  of  it.  But  with 
the  French  it  was  the  prologue  of  war. 

We  must  leave  the  effects  of  the  De  C^loron  expe- 
dition to  simmer  in  the  minds  of  the  rulers  of 
Canada,  while  pausing  for  a  page  or  two,  even  thus 
early,  to  say  something  of  Acadia  or  Nova  Scotia, 
that  outlying  bone  of  contention  between  the  two 
nations  in  the  North.  A  glance  at  the  map  will 
show  the  reader  how  very  nearly  an  island  is  this 
important  peninsula.  The  narrow  isthmus  which 
connects  it  with  what  is  now  New  Brunswick  was 
then  the  boundary  across  which  the  troops  of  France 
and  England  watched  each  other  with  no  friendly 
eyes  from  their  respective  forts. 

46 


1749] 


LOUISBOURG 


At  the  north-east  of  Acadia,  only  severed  from  the 
mainland  by  the  narrow  gut  of  Ganso,  lay  the  island 
of   Cape  Breton,   a  name  once   as  familiar  to   the 
world  as  the  Cape  of   Good  Hope,  but  now  almost 
unknown.     Its  fame  rested  on  the    great    fortress 
of  Louisbourg,  which  with  its  considerable  town  and 
ample  harbour  dominated  the  North  Atlantic,  and 
was  styled  the  "  Dunkirk  of  America."    All  Acadia 
had  been  handed  over  to  England  at  the  Peace  of 
Utrecht  in   1713,  with   the    exception  of  this  little 
island    of   Cape   Breton,  or  in  other  words  Louis- 
bourg.     The   latter,    during    the   late    war  in    the 
year  1745,  had  been  stormed  and  captured  in  spirited 
fashion  by  a  force  of  New  England  militia  under 
Peperall,  acting  in  conjunction  with  Admiral  Warren 
and  an  English  fleet.     It  was  restored  to  the  French, 
however,   three  years  later  at  the    treaty  of  Aix- 
la-Chapelle,  amid  the  loud  protestations  of  the  few 
in  England  who  were  conversant  with  the  politics  of 
the  North  Atlantic — protestations  fully  justified  by 
the  immense  stress  laid  upon  its  restoration  by  the 
French.     The  population  of  Nova  Scotia  consisted  of 
a  few  thousand   French  -  Canadian    habitants^    who 
chiefly    occupied    the    more    fertile    spots     on    the 
western  coast  which  looked  across  the  Bay  of  Fundy 
to   the  even  less  populous  mainland.     There    were 
also,  as  already  indicated,  two  or  three  isolated  forts 
where    small    detachments    of    British   regulars    or 
Colonial    militia    under    a  British    Governor  main- 
tained an   existence  of   appalling  monotony  and  of 
almost  unexampled  seclusion  from  the  outer  world. 

Everything  conceivable  had  been  done,  both  from 
motives  of  policy  and  humanity,  to  reconcile  these 
outlying  French-Canadians  to  British   rule.      They 

47 


'^\ 


I    I 


■'  ^w 


»»■ 


* 


\  ' 


THE  FOUNDING  OP  HALIFAX     [1749 

had  now  been  recognised  British  subjects  for 
nearly  forty  years,  and  had  been  consistently  treated 
in  a  fashion  so  magnanimous  as  to  be  the  despair 
of  the  French,  who  through  the  agency  of  their 
priests,  backed  by  their  bloodthirsty  battalions  of 
so-called  Indian  converts,  had  laboured  tirelessly  to 
promote  discontent  with  British  rule ;  but  of  this 
there  will  be  more  to  say  later.  It  will  be  sufficient 
to  state  here  that  the  French,  with  their  renewed 
occupation  in  greatly  increased  strength  of  Louis- 
bourg,  had  so  encouraged  and  accelerated  these  evil 
efforts  throughout  the  province  that  it  was  deemed 
necessary  to  create  a  counterpoise,  and  Halifax  was 
founded  upon  the  eastern  shore.  It  was  the  only 
instance,  and,  I  think,  remains  so,  of  a  British  colony 
of  free  men  founded  by  the  Imperial  Government 
for  a  definite  and  Imperial  purpose.  Surveys  were 
made,  the  site  of  a  city  selected,  and  offers  of  land, 
of  temporary  maintenance  and  arms  were  adver- 
tised in  England,  with  special  inducements  to  the 
many  officers  and  soldiers  disbanded  after  the  late 
war.  In  July,  1749,  three  thousand  souls — men, 
women,  axid  children — were  landed  on  the  shores  of 
Chebucto  Bay.  Others  followed,  and  in  a  short 
time,  with  much  less  of  the  trouble,  hardship,  and 
sickness  that  usually  attends  such  wholesale  ven- 
tures, the  town  of  Halifax  arose.  The  nucleus  of 
British  settlement  was  now  introduced,  that,  im- 
mensely increased  thirty  years  later  by  the  exiled 
loyalists  of  the  /.merican  Revolution,  was  to  make 
Nova  Scotia  a  great  and  prosperous  British  province. 
The  French  settlements  lay,  as  I  have  said,  upon  the 
western  side  of  the  peninsula.  The  Acadians,  who 
there  grew  hay  and  oats  and  apples  upon  a  limited 

48 


1749] 


CONTENTED  ACADIANS 


scale,  were  sunk  in  ignorance  and  superstition. 
They  were  thrifty,  however,  fairly  industrious,  and  of 
themselves  only  anxious  for  an  obscure  and  peace- 
able existence.^  Their  English  Governors  had  in- 
terfered with  them  in  no  way  whatever,  not  even 
taxing  them  in  the  lightest  degree.  The  French 
authorities,  with  the  recovery  of  the  province  always 
in  view,  and  in  consequence  keenly  interested  in 
keeping  disaffection  alive,  regarded  this  extreme 
leniency  with  something  like  dismay.  They  went  so 
far  as  to  complain  that  the  British  Government 
condoned  even  the  very  crimes  of  these  simple 
peasants.  One  most  necessary  token  of  submission, 
however,  their  new  masters  had  made,  or  rather 
endeavoured  to  make,  a  point  of,  and  this  was  the 
oath  of  allegiance  to  King  George.  To  the  peasantry 
themselves,  born  for  the  most  part  in  remote 
seclusion  and  ignorant  of  the  sentiment,  probably 
of  the  very  meaning  of  the  word  patriotism  as 
regarding  their  mother  country,  this  would  in  itself 
have  been  a  small  matter.  But  of  the  priests  they 
stood  in  proper  awe,  and  the  priests  were  instructed 
to  spare  no  pains  in  endeavours  to  prevent  their 
flocks  taking  the  obnoxious  oath.  Unscrupulous 
energy  was  shown  upon  the  one  side ;  too  much  for- 
bearance upon  the  other  by  the  handful  of  bored 
and  good-natured  soldiers  who  represented  England. 
For  the  first  thirty  years,  however,  these  clerical 
agents  from  Canada  were  not  so  actively  mischievous ; 
the  greater  part  of  the  thinly  scattered  population 

^  The  Acadians  were  not  fond  of  the  axe.  They  made  little 
inroad  on  the  forests  which  covered  Nova  Scotia,  but  diked  in  the 
marshes  which  fringed  the  sea-coast  at  certain  places,  and  cultivated 
the  reclaimed  land. 

49  B 


I 


t 


'   I 


I' 


(ir 


I 


( 


1: 


PRIESTS  PROMOTE  DISCORD    [1749 

took  some  sort  of  oath  of  allegiance,  and  the  land 
had  peace. 

Then  came  the  great  European  war,  which  was 
chiefly  marked  in  North  America  by  the  capture  of 
Louisbourg  at  the  hands  of  the  New  Englanders 
in  1745.  This  notable  achievement  sent  a  passing 
quiver  of  excitement  through  the  dense  forests  of 
Acadia,  even  to  the  villages  on  the  Bay  of  fVindy. 
The  Canadian  missionaries  renewed  their  efforts, 
which  were  met  with  a  fresh  show  of  activity  in 
enforcing  the  oath.  But  so  far  no  very  tangible  evil 
had  come  of  all  this.  The  Acadians  were  not  put 
to  the  test ;  they  were  f rvr  removed  from  all  scenes 
of  racial  strife  or  discord,  and  among  their  diked-in 
meadows  and  orchards  continued  to  propagate  in  peace 
and  rude  plenty  the  most  reactionary  and  ignorant 
breed  of  white  men  on  the  North  American  continent. 

When  Louisbourg  was  given  back  to  the  French, 
however,  and  some  vague  claims  to  the  northern  shore 
of  the  province  as  the  only  winter  route  to  Canada 
were  put  in  by  them  to  the  commissioners  appointed 
at  the  treaty  of  1748,  all  was  again  agog.  The 
founding  of  Halifax  in  the  following  year,  and  the 
advent  in  force  of  the  dreaded  British  settler,  though 
on  the  further  shore,  seemed  to  demolish  all  hopes  of 
French  supremacy  in  the  future.  England  might 
annex  and  rule,  for  their  very  great  content  and 
infinite  happiness,  the  French  American  colonies,  but 
she  might  get  tired  of  such  an  unprofitable  business. 
It  was  not  likely,  however,  that  Great  Britain  would 
ever  allow  a  province,  whither  she  had  deliberately 
invited  her  own  people,  to  pass  again  into  the  hands 
of  a  Government  who  hounded  even  their  own 
Protestants,  like  lepers,  from  their  gates. 

50 


\  ; 


I'M* 


,1 


1749-63]    DUPLICITY  OP  OPFICIALS 

Such  activity  was  now  shown  in  stirring  up  the 
hitherto  happy  Acadians,  both  at  the  lately  restored 
Louisbourg  and  at  Quebec,  that  the  British  authori- 
ties felt  that  after  forty  years  of  indulgent 
treatment  the  hour  had  now  come  to  demand  who 
were  their  friends  and  who  their  foes.  Any 
Acadians  who  might  object  to  taking  the  oath  of 
allegiance  to  King  George  had  been  granted  ample 
liberty  to  remove  their  effects  to  the  adjoining 
territory  of  Canada.  Most  of  the  few,  however, 
who  had  gone  had  been  driven  there  by  priestly 
intimidation.  War  seemed  again  in  the  air,  and 
war  this  time  of  a  more  serious  kind,  for  America. 
Oomwallis,  uncle  of  the  ill-fated  general  who  sur- 
rendered thirty  years  later  to  Washington  at  York- 
town,  had  just  come  out  as  Governor  of  Nova  Scotia. 
He  was  an  able  and  sensible  young  man  of  thirty-five, 
and  of  a  kindly  disposition,  but  he  decided  that  the 
Acadians  must  once  and  for  all  be  put  to  the  test  of 
a  full  and  binding  oath  of  allegiance.  Most  of  them 
had  been  actually  born  British  subjects.  It  was 
thoroughly  understood  in  Canada  that,  if  left  to 
themselves,  they  would  ask  for  nothing  better  than 
to  continue  such ;  so  the  cruel  system  of  intimidation 
was  renewed  with  redoubled  zeal. 

The  Governor  of  Canada  and  the  Commandant  of 
Louisbourg  were  the  chief  wire-pullers,  and  their 
correspondence  revealing  their  precious  schemes  is 
extant.  If  war  was  inevitable,  the  French  were 
anxious  to  defer  it  as  long  as  possible.  Peace  was 
to  be  outwardly  observed,  even  to  effusiveness.  The 
official  pens  of  the  French  commanders  grew  almost 
affectionate  when  addressing  their  brother-digni- 
taries in  Halifax  and  the  British  forts.     Their  letters 

51 


IE  LOUTRE  IN  ACADIA     [1749-54 


,  I 


)i 


to  the  agents  of  this  secret  policy  almost  joked  about 
these  diplomatic  falsehoods,  as  they  gave  precise 
instructions  for  the  discord  that  was  to  be  spread 
among  the  Acadians  and  the  scalps  that  were 
to  be  torn  from  the  bleeding  heads  of  English  set- 
tlers by  Micmac  Indians  in  French  employ.  The 
two  leading  j^oints  in  their  policy  were  to  frighten 
the  Acadians  from  taking  an  oath  of  allegiance 
which  their  simple  faith  might  lead  them  to  regard 
as  binding,  and  to  frighten  the  newly  arrived  Eng- 
lish settlers  out  of  Nova  Scotia.  But  above  all, 
they  wrote  to  each  other,  it  was  imperative  that  they 
should  not  be  suspected  of  such  designs. 

Their  chief  agent  for  carrying  fire,  and  sword,  and 
misery  among  the  hitherto  contented  Acadians, 
was  an  unscrupulous  scoundrel  called  Le  Loutre — 
an  energetic,  able,  but  fanatic  priest,  whose  hatred 
of  the  English  was  only  equalled  by  his  heartless 
cruelty  to  his  own  people.  He  had  many  zealous 
abettors  under  his  orders,  priests  of  the  cold-blooded 
and  bigoted  stamp,  though  even  they  recoiled 
sometimes  from  their  leader's  methods.  Short  of 
physical  force,  religious  terror  was  the  only  engine 
by  which  the  Acadians  could  be  driven.  It  was 
this  agency,  one  which  Canadian  priests  so  well 
understood,  that  had  all  along  been  utilized.  But 
now  the  screw  was  to  be  turned  on  in  pitiless  and 
relentless  fashion. 

Any  Acadians  who  should  take  the  proffered  oath 
were  promised  inevitable  damnation  in  the  world  to 
come — an  awful  reality  to  the  trembling,  credulous 
habitant.  To  take  an  oath  of  allegiance  to  a  heretic 
king  was  represented  as  the  most  hideous  of  all  sins. 
They  were  assured,  too,  that  the  English  settlers  at 

52 


1749-54]      ACADIAN  TROUBLES 

the  far  edge  of  a  hundred  miles  of  unbroken  forest 
would  take  away  their  lands.  Those  who  showed  signs 
of  risking  their  salvation,  and  of  judging  the  English 
by  their  past  deeds,  were  threatened  with  a  visit  from 
one  of  the  many  bands  of  Micmac  Indians  with  which 
Le  Loutre  now  filled  the  woods.     AttS/cks  upon  the 
English  settlers  pushing  out  from  Halifax  were  repre- 
sented as  a  religious  crusade.     The  murder  of  strag- 
gling soldiers  from  the  British  forts  was  extolled  as 
a  meritorious  action.     The  so-called  Christian  Indians 
were  hounded  on  till  the  environs  of  Halifax  became 
the  scene  of  daily  murders,  and  all  this  was  in  peace 
time !    Proclamation  after  proclamation    was   sent 
out    by    the    English    authorities,    calling    on    the 
people  to  take  the  oath,  recalling  their  past  treat- 
ment and  promising  them  a  continuation  of  it.     The 
wretched    Acadians,    grovelling    with    superstitious 
fear,  and  steeped  in  the  lies  poured  daily  into  their 
ears  as  to  the  British  intentions,  were  in  a  pitiable 
position.     There  was  no  question  of  patriotism  in 
the  ordinary  sense  of  the  word.     It  was  sheer  ter- 
ror, physical  and  spiritual,  that  paralyzed  them.     A 
shade  more  of  intelligence  on  their  part  would  have 
righted  the  whole  matter,  and  the  misleading  hexa- 
meters of  Evangeline  would  never  have  been  written. 
Long  before  the  last  of  the  many  ultimatums  sent 
by  the  long-suffering  English  governors,    hundreds 
of  Acadians  had  abandoned  their  homesteads  and  fled 
to  the  strange    and    unsympathetic    settlements  on 
the  Canadian  mainland  or  to  the  sterile    rocks  of 
Cape    Breton.      Hundreds     more,    bewildered     and 
despairing,  had  fled  to  the  woods,   mixed  with  the 
Indians,  shared  in  their  bloody  raids,   and  become 
irretrievable  outlaws. 

53 


1 


A 


^ 


4^ 


,\ 


i] 


•4.! 


Ht 


ACADIAN  TROUBLES     [1749-65 

No  word  of  pity  for  these  unhappy  people,  so  far 
as  we  know,  passed  a  French  official  lip.    A  pros- 
perous village  that  showed  signs  of  preferring  the 
familiar    and    indulgent    rule    of    the   Government 
under  which   most    of    its    people    had    lived    and 
flourished  all  their  lives  was  fired  by  Le  Loutre's 
own  hand  to  drive  them  into  exile.     The  tension  and 
rivalry  existing  between  England  and  France  at  this 
time  in  America  admitted  of  no  half -measures.     The 
French  fort  of  Beausejour  scowled  across  the  narrow 
isthmus  at  the  British  station  of  Fort  Laurence,  and 
formed  an  admirable  base  for  the  devilries  of  Le 
Loutre.     Since  the  re-occupation  of  Louisbourg  by 
the    French,    the   latter   had   become  the    stronger 
military  influence  on  the  north-east  coast,  and  they 
fondly  looked  forward,  when  war  should  break  out, 
to  the  recapture  of  Nova  Scotia.     That  the  manhood 
of  12,000  hardy  peasants  would   be  an   invaluable 
aid  goes  without  saying,  and  accounts  for,  though 
it  does  not  excuse,  these  untiring  efforts  to  destroy 
the  harmony  between  the  Acadians  and  the  British 
Government.      Monckton,  of  whom  we   shall    hear 
again,   succeeded   Cornwallis   as    British    Governor. 
Hobson  and   Laurence  (of    expatriation  notoriety) 
followed,  all  excellent  and  kindly  men.     The  ethics 
of  the  eighteenth,  or  perhaps  even  a  later  century 
under  similar  conditions,  could  not  be  expected  to 
tolerate  the  persistent  refusal  of  nearly  the  whole 
population  of  a  legally  possessed  and  leniently  ad- 
ministered province,  to  swear  full  allegiance  to  their 
lawful  king  at  a  vital  crisis.     The  whole  story  from 
1747   to  1755   is   sad   enough.     It  is   the   blackest 
blot  on  French  transatlantic  history,  and  stains  the 
memory  of   De   la   Jonquiere   and  Duquesne,  who 

54 


t^ 


1749-55]   DE  LA  JONQUIEBE  GOVERNOR 


permitted  their  innocent  fellow-countrymen  to  be 
made  the  tools  of  a  dishonest  policy,  to  be  heart- 
lessly sacrificed,  and  then  ruthlessly  flung  away. 
The  notable  deportation  of  8,000  Acadians  in  1755, 
taken  by  itself,  is  not  easy  to  defend ;  but  who 
reads  of  or  cares  anything  for  the  years  of  for- 
bearance under  ceaseless  provocation,  which  at  last 
broke  down  before  the  deadlock  which  at  a  critical 
period  faced  the  English  Government  ?  It  is  a  poor 
consolation,  too,  to  remember  that  of  all  the  various 
points  to  which  these  unhappy  emigrants  founi 
their  way,  it  was  among  their  fellow-countrymen  in 
Quebec  that  they  met  with  least  sympathy  and 
kindness,  while  the  greatest  measure  of  compassion, 
and  that  of  a  practical  kind,  was  found  among  the 
arch-heretics  of  New  England.  All  French  writers 
of  that  day  unite  in  testifying  to  the  complete 
indifference  shown  towards  the  Acadian  refugees  by 
their  countrymen,  and  all  repudiate  the  methods  of 
Le  Loutre. 

It  is  satisfactory  to  know  that  this  unprincipled 
fanatic  was  eventually  caught  by  the  English  on  the 
high  seas,  and  was  a  prisoner  for  eight  years  in 
Jersey  Castle  under  an  assumed  name.  A  story 
runs  that  a  soldier  of  the  garrison,  who  had  served 
in  Nova  Scotia,  recognised  the  monster  as  having 
once  ordered  him  to  be  scalped,  and  tried  to  stab 
him  with  his  bayonet.  The  soldier's  rage  was  so 
uncontrollable,  that  he  had  to  be  transferred  to 
another  garrison.  But  we  have  of  necessity  been 
anticipating  somewhat,  and  it  is  a  relief  to  turn  from 
these  poor  and  underground  methods  of  combating 
destiny  to  the  more  honest  operations  on  the  Ohio. 

In  the  year  1749  De  la  Jonqui^re  succeeded  Galis- 

55 


i 


I 


f 


f; 


.1. 


V 


.*\ 


DUQUESNB  ARRIVES 


[1752 


»  • 


htt.'^i 


soni^re  as  Ooveruor  of  Canada.  He  succeeded  also 
to  his  policy  of  keeping  the  English  upon  the  eastern 
side  of  the  AUeghanies.  But  ho  was  not  fated  to 
cany  it  much  further  forward  ;  for  though  he  ruled 
over  Canada  for  nearly  two  years,  the  rival  nations 
remained  at  peace,  and  it  required  some  exceptional 
audacity  to  take  the  risk  of  setting  the  world 
on  fire.  De  la  Jonqui^re  died  early,  in  1752 ;  and, 
after  a  brief  interval,  the  Marquis  Duquesne  de 
Meneval  came  out  in  his  place.  He  was  descended 
from  the  famous  naval  commander  of  that  name, 
was  of  haughty  mien,  a  strong  disciplinarian,  and 
zealous  to  a  fault  in  all  military  concerns.  He  ex- 
acted full  service  from  the  militia,  about  15,000 
strong,  drilled  and  organized  them,  together  with  the 
2,000  colonial  regulars  or  troops  of  marine,  and 
worked  both  arms  of  the  service  with  much  assi- 
duity for  nearly  two  years  in  his  determination  to 
make  them  a  thoroughly  efficient  force. 

In  the  summer  of  1752,  when  the  rivers  and  lakes 
had  shaken  off  their  load  of  ice,  Duquesne  made 
ready  for  the  first  act  in  the  coming  drama,  and  sent 
out  the  expedition  that  was  to  begin  fort-building  in 
the  Ohio  Valley,  the  disputed  territory.  Like  Galisso- 
ni^re's  less  direct  challenge  three  years  previously, 
Duquesne's  stronger  cohorts  paddled  up  to  Lake 
Erie,  but  chose  on  this  occasion  a  better  landing- 
place,  at  a  spot  where  the  town  that  takes  its  name 
from  the  lake  now  stands.  There  were  here, 
however,  twenty  miles  of  rough  watershed  to  be 
surmounted,  and  the  difficulties  of  carrying  their 
impedimenta  over  it  were  so  great  as  to  exhaust  the 
patience  and  capacities  of  the  younger  officers  and 
the  vitality  of  their  commander,   Marin,  who   died 

56 


1 1 


1752J    THE  FRENCH  BUILD  FORTS 

from  his  exertions.  He  was  an  old  and  capable 
officer,  and  his  loss  was  g^reatly  felt.  A  successor 
was  sent  forward  by  Duquesne— if  not  so  old  as 
Marin,  a  veteran  in  experience,  and  an  explorer  of 
the  western  plains,  one  Legardeur  de  St.  Pierre.  The 
difficulties  of  their  progress  were  increased  by  loads 
of  useless  trappings  that  were  purchased  for  corrupt 
reasons  by  the  officials  who  made  money  out  of 
commissariat  transactions.  Two  forts  were  built, 
one  at  Erie  on  the  lake,  another  at  the  head  of 
Ohio  navigation,  known  as  Fort  le  Boeuf.  This 
was  enough  to  impress  the  Indian  tribes  with 
ideas  of  French  determination  and  English  apathy ; 
an  earnest  rather  of  what  was  coming  than  a  far- 
reaching  movement  in  itself.  At  the  same  time  it 
was  quite  enough  to  arouse  the  British  authorities  to 
their  danger,  and  to  call  for  explanations,  which 
hastened  on  the  crisis. 

Two  colonial  Governors  stand  out  pre-eminently  at 
this  moment,  Shirley  of  Massachusetts,  ar.d  Din- 
widdle of  Virginia.  The  former  was  a  nimble- 
minded,  energetic,  capable  man  of  affairs,  who  had 
thoroughly  identified  himself  with  the  interests  of  the 
colonies,  and  had  served  on  the  boundary  commis- 
sion of  the  treaty  of  Aix-la-Chapelle.  The  latter 
was  a  shrewd,  blunt  Scotchman,  a  deputy  of  Lord 
Albemarle's,  the  titular  Governor,  whose  agreeable 
manners.  Lord  Chesterfield  tells  his  son  with  admira- 
tion, were  the  sole  reason  of  his  being  the  greatest 
sinecurist  of  his  day.  It  was  as  well  the  homely 
Scotchman,  though  the  Virginians  did  not  like  him, 
stood  in  the  shoes  of  his  exquisite  employer,  for  he 
was  a  faithful  and  alert  watchdog  over  British 
interests,  while  Americans  should  be  for  ever  grate- 

57 


I 


I 


\V 


I' 

1 1 


I 


I 


A 


APATHY  OF  BRITISH  COLONISTS  [1762 

fill  to  him  for  giving  Washington  his  first  oppor- 
tunity. 

The  lesson  of  De  Celeron's  expedition  of  five  years 
previously  had  been  apparently  lost  on  the  colonies, 
since  officially  they  had  done  absolutely  nothing 
to  resent  his  claims.  Traders  continued  to  cross 
the  Alleghanies,^  while  two  land  companies,  in  Penn- 
sylvania and  Virginia  respectively,  had  acquired 
grants  in  the  disputed  territory  upon  certain  con- 
ditions, and  had  gone  so  far  as  to  send  well-known 
frontiermen  to  locate  them.  No  thoughts  of  the 
French,  however,  seem  to  have  disturbed  these 
sanguine  speculators,  nor  had  any  steps  been  taken 
to  resist  them.  A  good  deal  of  quarrelling  had 
taken  place  between  the  rival  companies,  whose 
pioneers  in  th<>  woods  had  so  traduced  each  other 
that  the  Indians  beheld  the  English  not  only  un- 
prepared for  war,  but  apparently  at  loggerheads 
among  themselves.  Moreover,  it  was  quite  evident 
to  thecal  that  the  French  were  righc,  and  that  it  was 
land  the  British  were  after,  not  Indian  friendship 
and  trade.  The  more  friendly  Indians  begged 
these  emissaries  of  the  two  companies  to  build 
forts  at  once,  but  their  principals  on  *he  sea- 
board, with  characteristic  and  persistent  blindness 
to  the  French  movements,  disregarding  all  warnings, 
gave  no  heed  to  the  advice. 

The  Governors  of  some  of  the  colonies,  however, 
and  in  particular  the  two  already  indicated,  were 
keenly   alive  tx>  this  activity  of   the  French  on  the 

*  Tlie  Alleghany  chain  is  of  considerable  though  varying  width. 
Its  altitude  lies  between  2,000  and  6,500  feet,  increasing  as  it  travels 
south.  Its  hi'^hest  points  arc  in  the  West  of  Virginia  and  North 
Carolina. 


\  '  ll 


1752]  ENCROACHMENTS  OF  THE  FRENCH 

Ohio,  and  despatched  upon  their  own  account  special 
envoys.  But  from  the  very  fact  of  these  being 
the  emissaries  of  the  Governor  and  not  of  the 
colony,  the  legislatures  paid  no  regard  to  the  signifi- 
cant tidings  they  brought  back.  For  at  this  time,  as 
at  most,  almost  every  colonial  Assembly  had  some 
special  quarrel,  usually  one  of  a  trumpery  nature, 
with  its  Governor.  But  however  trifling  was  the 
particular  question  in  dispute,  it  was  that  of  the 
hour,  the  topic  of  the  tavern  and  the  coffee-house, 
the  planter's  verandah,  the  farmer's  kitchen,  and  it 
loomed  much  larger  in  the  local  mind  than  fan- 
tastic theories  of  remote  French  enterprise  which 
might  possibly  be  ripe  for  consideration  when  their 
children's  children  stood  in  their  shoes. 

New  York  and  New  England  were  more  enlight- 
ened, but  the  former  at  least  had  some  excuse  for 
declining  further  obligations,  since  she  had  the  Six 
Nations  on  her  flanks  to  keep  in  humour,  and  had, 
moreover,  to  protect  the  route  to  Oswego  on  J^ake 
Ontario,  the  only  English  post  upon  the  northern 
lakes  and  a  continual  irritant  to  France. 

The  French  were  greatly  encouraged  by  the  sight 
of  such  indifference.  It  almost  seemed  as  if  the 
English  were  content  with  their  seaboard  territories, 
and  were  really  inclined  to  give  their  rivals  a  free 
hand  behind  the  mountains.  So  by  slow  steps  they 
crept  onwards  down  the  feeders  of  the  Ohio.  By 
stealthy  methods — the  expulsion  of  English  traders, 
the  punishment  of  unfriendly  Indians,  the  assump- 
tion of  supreme  control — they  worked  upon  the 
imagination  of  the  savages,  who,  seeing  such  vigorous 
conduct  neither  resented  nor  resisted,  began  to 
regard   the  French   as  the    rising,    the    English    aj* 

59 


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i! 


t;  ' 

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ilr 


«m  ■■■WMI3BI 


ff^ 


It 


i 

K 


■i 


) ! 


li 

m 


I  >  I 


ENCROACHMENTS  OF  THE  FRENCH  [1752 

the  declining  power.  English  interests  beyond  the 
Alleghanies  were  wholly  represented  by  individr.al 
traders,  for  whom  it  must  be  said  that  they  had 
o£t»?n  gained,  not  less  by  their  courage  and  ability 
than  by  the  cheapness  of  their  goods,  much  influence 
over  the  Indians.  But  they  were,  after  all,  mere 
private  adventurers,  and  few  in  number,  while  the 
French,  who  were  now  showing  their  teeth  so  un- 
mistakably, had  the  evident  backing  of  their  Govern- 
ment behind  them.  There  was  nothing  the  Indian 
respected  more  than  an  energetic  show  of  force, 
except  the  actual  use  of  it,  and  those  tribes  who 
were  friendly  to  England  were  now  sadly  de- 
pressed, and  fully  believed  that  her  power  was  ou 
the  wane. 

The  desire  of  the  French  Government  to  sup- 
port their  Canadian  deputies  was  by  no  means 
free  from  a  suspicion  of  the  motives  that  animated 
some  of  these  forward  patriots.  It  was  not  the 
legitimate  ambition  of  the  capitalist  for  new  fields, 
such  as  rouses  the  ire  of  the  Little  Englander  to- 
day, that  gave  them  pause,  but  the  official  peculation 
that  in  every  fresh  expedition  saw  another  opening 
for  illicit  gain.  Bigot,  the  last  and  most  notable 
Intendant  of  Canada,  led  the  gang,  and  made 
scarcely  concealed  mockery  of  those  of  his  nomi- 
nees who  failed  sufficiently  to  profit  by  his  pat- 
ronage. But  side  by  sida  with  this  system  of  un- 
blushing robbery,  which  stunted  and  impoverished 
the  colony,  went  a  great  measure  of  patriotism, 
•considerable  military  ability,  and  a  mortal  hatred 
and  jealousy  of  the  English.  Duquesne  V'^rote 
home  to  his  Government  that  the  country  "  wa« 
full  of  rascals,"  but  it  was  also  full  of  soldiors. 

60 


I 


"(I 


I 


1753]    GOVERNOR  DINWIDDIE  MOVES 

Dinwiddie,  the  shrewd  Scotch  Governor  of  Virginia, 
was  the  first  to  move,  and  this  he  could  only  do  by- 
way of  protest,  since  he  had  no  forces  worth  men- 
tioning and  no  money  to  pay  the  handful  that  he 
had.  It  is  u  strange  coincidence  that  the  agent  he 
selected  for  the  business — the  first  British  soldier, 
in  fact,  who  went  out  formally  to  proclaim  King 
George's  title  to  the  West — should  have  been  George 
Washington.  The  young  Virginian  was  at  this  time 
only  twenty-one,  a  major  in  thf  colonial  service  and 
adjutant-general  of  the  Virginia  militia.  In  the 
opinion  of  Dinwiddie,  an  opinion  which  did  him 
credit,  there  was  no  one  in  the  colony  so  well 
qualified  to  perform  a  mission  of  danger,  delicacy, 
and  hardship.  Washington's  antecedents  and  career 
are  so  generally  familiar,  one  hesitates  to  linger 
over  them.  But  as  they  will  certainly  not  bo 
fresh  in  the  mind  of  many  readers,  it  may  be  well 
to  recall  the  fact  that  he  was  the  great-grandson 
of  the  son  of  a  Northamptonshire  squire  ^  who  had 
settled  in  Virginia  in  the  preceding  century.  George 
was  the  eldest  of  several  brothers  by  his  father's 
second  wife,  but  had  no  patrimony  worth  mentioning. 
The  eldest  of  his  half-brothers,  however,  Laurence 
Washington,  who  had  a  considerable  estate,  practi- 
cally adopted  him.  Laurence  had  commanded  some 
Virginia  volunteers  in  the  disastrous  campaign 
against  Carthagena,  and  had  afterwards  married 
into  the  Fairfax  family,  who  had  large  interests  in 
the  colony,  and  finally  settled  down  on  his  pro- 
perty on  the  Potomac,  calling  it  Mount  Vernon 
after  the  "  hero  of  Portobello."     His  wife  soon  died, 

'  Of  Sulgrave  and  Brington.     John  Washington  was  the  first 
emigrant,  and  soon  took  a  prominent  part  in^Virginian  affairs. 

61 


-ii 


Hi' 


li 


I' 


'  ■ 


'1 


'•■ 


GEORGE  WASHINGTON 


[1753 


4 


leaving  only  a  daughter,   and  he    himself,   having 
contracted  the  seeds  of  disease  in  the  deadly  South 
American    campaign,    succumbed    in    1752,   leaving 
George  guardian  to  the  child  and  heir  to  the  estate 
in  the  event  of  her  death,  which  happened  no  long 
time  afterwards.    The  great  Virginian's  boyhood,  till 
he  began  soldiering,  had  been  largely  spent  in  sur- 
veying the  vast  tracts  on  the  eastern  slopes  of  the 
AUeghanies,  which  belonged  to  the   Fairfax  family 
— a  life  which  threw  him  among  Indians,  rough  back- 
woodsmen, and  all  the  perils  of  border  life  at  an 
age  when  his  contemporaries  were  leading  the  semi- 
English  life  which  distinguished  the  eastern  counties 
of   Virginia,  or  were  at  school  in  England,  at  Eton 
or    Westminster.      He  constantly  enjoyed,  however, 
and  greatly  to   his  profit,   the    society    of  the   old 
Lord  Fairfax,  scholar,  courtier,   soldier,    who    for  a 
strange  whim  had  secluded   himself  at  his  lodge  of 
Greenaway  Court   amid  the  noble  forests  which  then 
covered  the  Shenandoah  Valley.     Washington   was 
at  this  time  a  tall,  stalwart,  long-limbed,  long-headed, 
courageous,  self-contained   youth,  who  was   equally 
at  home  in  the  woods  or  in  the  drawing-room,  and 
had  even  seen  something  of   the  outer  world,  hav- 
ing  travelled    in    the  West  Indies   with  his  invalid 
brother.     He  took  keenly  to  soldiering  from  the  first, 
and  was   well  equipped  by  habit  and  experience  for 
both   frontier  warfare   and   frontier  diplomacy.      A 
European    Dutch    soldier,  named  Van  Braam,   who 
had   lived   at   Mount   Vernon    as    half  friend,   half 
fencing  master,  and   could    speak   French,   was   as- 
sociated  with   Washington    in    this  enterprise.     So 
also  was  Gist,  the  most  famous  of  frontiermen,  to- 
gether  with   four  or  five  other  white  men,  and  as 

62 


fc  Jl(. 


1753] 


GEORGE  WASHINGTON 


^( 


many  Indians.  Their  mission  was  to  march  through 
the  woods  from  the  Potomac  River  to  the  new 
French  fort  of  Le  Boeuf,  only  twenty  miles  south 
of  Lake  Erie,  no  mean  performance  in  the  year 
1753 1  The  chill  rains  of  late  autumn  fell  ceaselessly 
upon  the  small  party  as  they  pushed  their  way 
through  the  dripping  forests,  and  it  was  December 
before  they  reached  the  nearer  station  of  the  French 
at  Venango.  Here  an  officer  named  Joncaire  com- 
manded, having  seized  an  English  trading-house  and 
hoisted  above  it  the  French  flag.  Washington  kept 
a  journal  of  the  whole  expedition,  and  tells  us  how 
he  dined  here  with  the  French  officers,  who,  when 
flushed  with  wine,  declared  that,  though  the  English 
were  in  a  great  majority,  their  movements  were  too 
slow,  and  for  their  own  part  they  intended  to  take 
the  Ohio  Valley  and  "  by  G— d  to  keep  it."  They  did 
their  best  to  entice  away  Washington's  Indians,  but 
with  great  difficulty  he  managed  to  get  o£P  with 
his  party  intact,  and  in  a  short  time  arrived  at 
Fort  le  Bceuf,  the  end  of  his  journey,  where  Le 
Gardeur  de  St.  Pierre  commanded.  To  him  he  de- 
livered Dinwiddle's  despatch,  expressing  much  sur- 
prise that  the  French  should  have  built  forts  on 
what  was  notoriously  British  territory,  and  demand- 
ing by  whose  authority  it  was  done.  The  note  went 
on  to  express  a  hope  that  the  French  officer  would 
retire  immediately,  and  so  maintain  the  harmony  now 
existing  between  the  two  nations. 

St.  Pierre  was  extremely  polite  to  Washington,  but 
wrote  firmly,  though  civilly,  to  Dinwiddie  that  he 
should  certainly  stay  where  he  was  till  ordered  by 
his  superior  officer  to  retire.  The  same  attempt  to 
alienate  the  Indian  escort  was  made  here  as  at  Ven- 

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WASHINGTON'S  MISSION       [1753 

ango,  but  without  avail.     The  return  journey,  as  told 
in  ^Washington's  simple  matter-of-fact  journal,  is  in 
itself  quite  a  thrilling  story  of  adventure.     In  order 
to  save  time  he  left  Van  Braam  with  the  horses  and 
servants  to  come  on  at  leisure,  and  wrapping  himself 
in  an  Indian  match  coat,  with  a  pack  on  his  back, 
rifle  in  hand,  and  Gist  as  his  sole  companion,  the 
young  Virginian,  bearing   the    first  formal  note  of 
defiance  from  France  to  England,  prepared  to  face 
the  perils  of  the  return  journey.     It  was  now  Janu- 
ary, the  dead  of   winter,  and    some  four  hundred 
miles  of    a  pathless    and    mostly    rugged    wilder- 
ness, riven  with    torrents    and    densely    clad    with 
forests,  had  to  be  traversed.    The  season  alternated 
between  fierce  frosts  and  dripping  thaws.     The  In- 
dians  might   be  encountered   at  any  moment,  and 
their  temper  in  these  regions  had  by  French  intrigue 
become  most  uncertain.    One  of  them,  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  actually  did  hide  in  a  thicket  not  fifteen  paces 
from  the  trail,  and  fired  point-blank  at  Washington, 
but  happily  without  effect.     They  caught  the  culprit, 
tied  his  arms  and  marched  him  before  them  for  a 
whole  day,  lest  he  should  bring  his  friends  in  force 
upon  their  track.     Expecting  to  cross  the  Alleghany 
River  on  a  frozen  surface,  they  found  it  full  of  loose 
blocks  of  floating  ice.     Making  a  raft  with  their  "  one 
poor  hatchet,"  they  then  embarked  in  the  gloom  of  a 
winter's  evening  on  the  formidable  passage.     In  mid- 
channel  Washington  was  knocked  off  the  raft  by  a 
block  of  ice  into  the  freezing  flood,  and  the  two  men 
had  eventually  to  spend  the  night  upon  an  island, 
their  clothing  frozen  stiff  upon  them.     Gist  had  all 
his  fingers  and  some  of  his  toes  frost-bitten.  Pushing 
on,  however,  through  grey  forests,  on  whose  leafless 

64 


1753]    WASHINGTON'S  ADVENTURES 

boughs  the  drip  of  tho  day  became  icicles  by  night, 
and  encountering  now  a  straggling  band  of  Indians, 
now  a  horrid  spectacle  of  scalped  corpses,  half  worried 
by  wolves  or  hogs,  they  arrived  on  the  borders  of  in- 
habited Virginia.  Here  Washington  procured  fresh 
horses  and  fresh  clothes,  and  rode  on  with  his  letter 
to  Dinwiddie  at  Williamsburg,  having  been  absent 
just  three  months. 

The  latter  had  ere  this  received  permission  from 
the  English  Government  to  oppose  force  by  force,  and 
to  erect,  on  his  part,  forts  upon  the  Ohio,  at  the 
■expense  of  the  colonial  Governments.  The  officials 
of  both  nations  were  now  committed  to  an  armed 
occupation  of  the  same  country — a  proceeding  which 
could  have  but  one  result.  But  the  French  were 
ready  with  men  and  money,  and  strong  in  a  united 
purpose.  Dinwiddie,  on  the  other  hand,  could  do 
nothing  with  the  colonial  legislatures.  His  own 
were  squabbling  with  him  about  the  precise  amount 
of  a  royalty  on  land  patents,  in  a  territory  that  was 
in  the  act  of  slipping  from  their  grasp,  and  made  a 
concession  on  this  point,  which  the  Governor  could 
not  legally  grant,  the  condition  of  defending  their 
own  interests  against  the  common  foe.  The  Germans 
of  Pennsylvania  would  not  stir.  To  these  people  in 
their  ignorance  one  Government,  so  long  as  it  was 
not  the  European  tyranny  they  had  escaped  from, 
would  do  as  well  as  another.  The  Quakers  were 
against  all  war  on  principle,  and  had  found  their 
scruples  profitable,  since  the  colonies  around  them, 
while  protecting  themselves,  virtually  protected  Penn- 
sylvania. Maryland,  which  had  no  such  excuses,  was 
almost  equally  backward,  one  of  the  reasons  being, 
according  to  their  Governor,  Sharpe,  that  no  men  of 

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DINWIDDIE  AND  THE  COLONIES   [1754 

means,  position,  and  intelligence  would  belong  to  the 
legislature,  which  was  certainly  not  the  case  in 
Virginia.  Dinwiddie  now  begged  New  York  and 
Massachusetts  to  make  a  feint  against  the  French  on 
their  borders,  and  distract  their  attention  from  the 
Ohio.  Two  independent  companies  from  New  York 
and  South  Carolina,  maintained  by  the  Crown,  were 
placed  under  Dinwiddle's  orders,  and  his  own  legis- 
lature at  last  voted  £10,000  for  the  defence  of  their 
own  frontier.  Virginia,  too,  possessed  a  regiment  of 
some  300  men,  mostly  raw  recruits,  of  which  a 
Colonel  Fry,  an  Oxford  M.A.,  was  in  command, 
with  Washington  as  its  major.  With  this  for- 
midable host  the  excellent  Dinwiddie  prepared  to 
dispute  with  France,  as  best  he  could,  the  Empire  of 
the  West. 

It  was  now  the  early  spring  of  1754.  Forty  back- 
woodsmen under  an  Ensign  Ward  were  sent  across 
the  Alleghanies  to  erect  a  fort  at  a  place  previously 
selected  by  Washington,  where  the  two  large  streams 
of  the  Alleghany  and  Monongahehi  meet  to  form  the 
Ohio— a  spot  to  become  famous  enough  in  the  suc- 
ceeding years,  and  in  another  sense  still  more  famous 
now.*  But  armed  Frenchmen,  soldiers  and  Canadian 
voyageurs,  had  been  steadily  pouring  into  the  Alle- 
ghany back  country  during  the  past  few  months  ;  and 
Le  Contrecoeur,  at  the  head  of  500  men,  very  soon 
tumbled  Ward  and  his  rustic  engineers  back  into  the 
English  settlements. 

Dinwiddie  still  for  the  moment  the  only  active 
champion  of  British  interests,  and  being  now  in 
funds,  mustered  his  raw  Virginian  regiment  and  sent 


*  Pittsburg  may  be  called  "  the  Birmingham  of  America." 

66 


Vll' 


1754]        WASHINGTON  MARCHES 

them  forward  to  Wills  Creek  on  the  Potomac,  where 
an  English  trading  station  marked  the  limit  at 
which  the  feeble  outposts  of  settlement  gave  way  to 
the  gloom  of  unbroken  forests.  The  weak  com- 
panies from  South  Carolina  and  New  York  were  to 
follow  with  such  speed  as  they  could  make. 

Fry  remained  at  Wills  Creek  with  half  the  Vir- 
ginians, while  Washington  with  the  remainder  struck 
out  into  the  wilderness,  the  ultimate  object  of  the 
British  attack  being  the  fort  which  the  French  were 
said  to  be  building  at  the  beforementioned  forks 
of  the  Ohio,  and  had  already  named  after  their 
Governor,  Duquesne.  Washington  and  his  150  men 
slowly  pushed  their  way  north-westward,  cutting 
roads  over  the  lofty  forest-clad  ridges  of  the  Alle- 
ghanies  for  their  guns  and  pack-trains.  They  had 
covered  sixty  miles,  nearly  half  the  march,  and  had 
arrived  at  an  oasis  in  the  mountain  wilderness,  where 
stood  a  trading  station,  known  as  "  The  Chreat 
Meadows,''  when  word  was  brought  that  a  French 
detachment  was  advancing  from  the  new  fort  Du- 
quesne to  clear  the  English  out  of  the  country. 
Taking  forty  of  his  men  with  him,  Washington 
groped  his  way  through  the  whole  of  a  pitch-dark  and 
soaking  night  to  the  quarters  of  the  "  Half  King," 
a  friendly  Indian  chief,  who  had  formed  one  of  his 
party  in  the  diplomatic  mission  of  the  previous  year. 
The  Indian  had  some  news  to  give  of  an  advanced 
scouting  party  of  the  French,  supposed  to  be  lurking 
in  the  neij^hbourhood,  and  with  some  of  his  people 
joined  Washington  at  daylight  in  an  attempt  to  track 
them.  In  this  they  succeeded,  and  surprised  the 
French  lying  in  a  ravine,  who,  on  being  discovered, 
all  sprang  to  their  feet,  rifle  in  hand.     Washington 

67 


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promptly  gave  the  orde'  to  fire.  A  volley  was  given 
and  returned.  Coulon  d.  7umonville,  the  ensign  who 
commanded  the  French,  was  shot  dead,  and  a  few  of 
his  men  killed  and  wounded,  while  the  remaining 
twenty-one  were  taken  prisoners.  The  killing  of 
Jumonville  raised  a  great  commotion,  not  only  in  the 
colonies,  but  iu  Europe.  **  It  was  the  volley  fired  by 
a  young  Virginian  in  the  backwoods  of  America," 
says  Horace  Walpole,  "  that  set  the  world  on  fire." 
It  was  pretended  by  the  French  that  Jumonville 
was  on  a  quasi-diplomatic  errand,  and  the  bearer  of 
a  letter  merely  ordering  the  English  to  retire.  It 
was  quite  trueihe  had  on  his  person  a  letter  author- 
izing him  to  expel  any  English  he  found  in  his  path, 
but  an  unfounded  report  was  circulated  by  the 
French  that  he  jumped  up  and  waved  this  letter 
towards  Washington  as  a  sign  of  peaceful  intentions, 
and  that,  in  fact,  he  was  treacherously  shot.  An 
effort  was  made,  in  short,  to  brand  Washington  as 
an  assassin,  and  not  without  success  among  the 
French.  If  the  incident  had  occurred  to-day,  there 
is  no  manner  of  doubt  but  that  not  a  few  Englishmen 
too  would  have  jumped  to  that  conclusion  with 
ready  instinct,  and  stuck  to  it,  for  the  simple  reason 
that  Washington  was  a  Briton  and  Jumonville  was 
not.  It  is  equally  certain  that  the  policy  which 
eventually  made  North  America  Anglo-Saxon,  free 
and  prosperous,  would  have  been  as  loudly  opposed 
by  the  same  type  of  patriot,  on  the  principle  that,  as 
neither  nation's  claim  was  worth  anything,  that  of 
the  foreigner  was  most  worthy  of  support.  Apathy, 
it  is  true,  very  nearly  accomplished  what  the  per- 
verted sentimentalism  of  some  and  the  less  creditable 
motives  of  others  would  now  demand  under  similar 

68 


1754]     THE  JUMONVILLE  AFFAIR 

conditions ;  but  apathy  is,  after  ail,  quite  another 
matter,  though  at  this  crisis  of  the  nation,  or  to  be 
more  accurate,  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  race,  it  came  very 
near  to  signifying  incalculable  disaster. 

Jumonville  and  his  men,  it  transpired,  had  been  lying 
concealed  for  two  days  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Washington's  superior  force — scarcely  the  natural 
method  of  procedure  for  a  peaceful  convoy  I  De  Con- 
trecoeur,  commanding  the  main  force  of  some  500 
men,  was  advancing  in  the  rear,  and  his  scouting 
subaltern,  who,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  had  sent  mes- 
sengers to  hurry  him  up,  was  simply  waiting  for  his 
arrival  to  overwhelm  the  small  British  detachment. 
Washington  after  this  retired  to  the  Great  Meadows, 
where  his  second  battalion,  though  without  their 
colonel,  who  had  died,  now  arrived,  together  with 
the  South  Carolina  company,  consisting  of  fifty  so- 
called  regulars,  raised  in  the  colony  but  paid  by  the 
Crown.  The  young  Virginian  was  now  in  command 
of  350  men,  but  the  Carolina  captain,  being  in  some 
sort  a  king's  officer,  refused  to  take  orders  from  him 
as  a  provincial,  admirably  illustrating  one  of  the 
many  difficulties  which  then  hampered  military  action 
in  the  colonies.  His  men  assumed  similar  airs, 
and  would  lend  no  hand  in  road-making,  carrying 
packs,  or  hauling  guns.  So  Washington  laboured 
on  with  his  Virginians,  seeking  for  some  good  de- 
fensive point  at  which  to  receive  the  attack  of 
the  large  force  he  heard  was  advancing  against  him. 
After  much  labour  it  was  decided  to  return  again 
to  the  Great  Meadows,  and  there  entrench  themselves 
as  best  they  could.  It  was  not  a  good  situation,  but 
Virginians  and  Carolinians,  reconciled  by  their 
common  danger,  now  united  in  throwing  up  a  rough 

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WASHINGTON  PREPARES  TO  FIGHT  [1754 


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entrenchment  surrounded  by  log  breastworks  and  a 
dry  ditch. 

It  was  now  the  middle  of  June.  De  Jumonville's 
brother,  Goulon  de  Villiers,  on  hearing  of  his  death  in 
Canada,  had  hurried  southward  with  a  strong  band 
of  Indians,  burning  for  revenge.  There  were  already 
1,400  men  at  Fort  Duquesne,  seventy  miles  from  the 
Great  Meadows,  and  De  Villiers  arrived  just  in  time 
to  take  part  in  the  fresh  expedition  setting  out 
against  Washington.  It  was  intended  that  if  the 
British  could  not  be  caught  in  the  disputed  terri- 
tory, they  were  to  be  followed  into  Pennsylvania  and 
there  attacked.  But  Washington  had  no  intention 
of  retreating,  or,  to  be  more  precise,  his  men  and 
horses  were  in  such  a  weak  condition  that  he  was 
unable  to. 

So  he  drew  up  his  force  outside  the  poor  entrench- 
ments, which  he  had  aptly  called  Fort  Necessity,  and 
seems  to  have  had  some  vague  idea  of  encountering 
the  French  in  the  open.  But  when  at  eleven 
o'clock  some  eight  or  nino  hundred  of  the  enemy, 
including  Indians,  emerged  from  the  woods,  it  soon 
became  evident  that,  with  such  excellent  cover  as 
nature  afforded  in  the  overhanging  hills,  they  were 
not  going  to  take  the  superfluous  risks  of  a  frontal 
attack. 

The  British  thereupon  withdrew  inside  their  works, 
and  the  French  riflemen  scattered  among  the  wooded 
ridges  that  so  fatally  commanded  them.  A  musketry 
duel  then  commenced  and  continued  for  nine  hours, 
while  a  heavy  rain  fell  incessantly.  Washington's 
guns  were  almost  useless,  for  they  were  so  exposed 
that  the  loss  of  life  in  serving  them  was  far  greater 
than  any  damage  they  could  inflict  on  the  enemy. 

70 


1754]    BATTLE  OF  "GREAT  MEADOWS 


»» 


The  men  were  up  to  their  knees  in  water  and  mud ; 
their  bread  had  been  long  exhausted,  and  they  were 
reduced  to  a  meat  diet,  and  a  very  poor  one  at  that. 
This  ragged  regiment,  in  home-spun  and  hunting 
shirts,  half  -  starved,  soaked  to  the  skin,  and  with 
ammunition  failing,  not  from  expenditure  only,  but 
from  wet,  fought  stubbornly  throughout  the  day. 
From  time  to  time  the  very  force  of  the  rain  caused 
a  lull  in  the  combat,  the  opposing  forces  being  hid- 
den from  one  another  by  sheets  of  falling  water. 

The  French,  as  the  day  waned,  proposed  a  capitu- 
lation, which  Washington  refused.  But  his  ammu- 
nition at  length  gave  out  entirely,  and  as  the  gloomy 
light  of  the  June  evening  began  to  fade,  a  fresh 
proposal  to  send  an  envoy  to  discuss  terms  was  cc- 
cepted.  The  indispensable  Van  Braam,  as  the 
only  one  of  the  British  force  who  could  speak 
French,  was  sent  to  negotiate.  Nearly  a  hundred 
men  of  the  defending  force  lay  killed  or  wounded, 
while  the  French  loss,  though  not  so  great,  turned 
out  to  be  considerable.  The  terms  offered,  after  a 
little  discussion,  were  at  length  accepted,  and  were 
honourable  enough ;  namely,  that  the  garrison  were 
to  march  out  with  the  honours  of  war,  carrying 
their  effects  and  one  gun  with  them.  The  French 
were  indeed  in  no  position  to  take  or  maintain 
prisoners.  Moreover,  the  fiction  of  peace  between 
the  two  nations  had  to  be  taken  into  some  sort 
of  account. 

Now  in  the  articles  of  capitulation  the  phrase 
"  Vasaaasinat  de  Jumonville  "  appeared.  Van  Braam 
read  a  translation  of  them  aloud  to  Washington 
and  his  ofi&cers,  and  either  from  an  imperfect 
knowledge  of  the  language,  or  quite  possibly   from 

71 


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WASHINGTON  SURRENDERS    [1754 

a  desire  to  cause  no  hitch  in  the  extremely  un- 
comfortable situation,  rendered  the  obnoxious  phrase 
in  a  different  fashion,  translating  it  "  the  killing  or 
death  of  Jumonville." 

The  articles  were  read  in  English  and  signed  in 
the  darkness  and  rain  by  the  light  of  a  sputtering 
tallow  dip,  and  Washington's  signature  innocently 
aifixed  to  the  statement  that  he  was  practically 
a  murderer.  One  can  well  believe  that  this  ap- 
parent confession  was  a  cause  of  much  joy  and 
triumph  to  the  French,  both  among  those  who  knew 
the  real  facts  and  those  who  did  not.  One  does  not 
hear  of  any  Englishmen  who  rejoiced  at  this  docu- 
mentary evidence.  Washington  and  his  soldiers 
indignantly  denied  the  monstrous  story  that  Jumon- 
ville was  a  peaceful  envoy,  and  were  sufficiently  ex- 
asperated at  the  trick  played  in  the  translation.^ 
Their  word  was  good  enough  in  those  days  for  their 
countrymen,  both  in  England  and  America. 

The  French  prisoners  who  had  been  taken  in  the 
Jumonville  affair  were  to  be  sent  back,  while,  as 
hostages  for  the  undertaking,  the  inaccurate  Van 
Braam  and  a  Scotchman  named  Robert  Stobo, 
who  will  turn  up  again  in  another  place  at  a  much 
later  period  in  this  story,  were  retained  by  the 
French. 

The  fifty-mile  march  return  over  the  mountains  to 
Wills  Creek  was  a  pitiful  business.   The  wounded  had 


,'.f  I  I 


*  The  articles  were  written  in  a  bad  hand,  and  smudged  with 
rain.  The  candle,  says  an  officer  present,  could  scarcely  be  kept 
alight  for  Van  Braam  to  read  them  out  by.  No  hint  of  the  objec- 
tionable word  was  given ;  while  both  sides,  from  the  misery  and 
discomfort  of  the  situation,  were  in  a  hurry  to  terminate  the 
formalities. 

72 


*j*: 


i  ■   !l^ 


1754]      THE  HOMEWARD  MARCH 

to  be  carried  on  the  backs  of  their  weakened,  travel- 
worn  comrades,  for  the  Indians,  threatening  and 
noisy,  were  with  difficulty  prevented  from  a  general 
onslaught,  and,  as  it  was,  killed  all  the  horses  and 
destroyed  the  medicine  chests.  It  was  a  sorry  band 
that  struggled  back  with  Washington  across  the 
Alleghanies,  by  the  rough  track  that  a  year  hence 
was  to  be  beaten  wider  by  the  tramp  of  British 
infantry  marching  to  a  fate  far  more  calamitous. 
They  were  for  the  most  part  poor  men,  the  waifs 
and  strays  of  Southern  life,  fighting  and  toiling  and 
starving  for  eightpence  a  day.  Both  they  and  their 
young  leader,  now  full  enough,  we  may  be  sure, 
of  gloomy  thoughts,  had  done  their  duty,  to  the 
best  of  their  knowledge  and  experience,  against 
trained  soldiers,  and  most  certainly  with  valour.  If 
they  had  left  the  French  triumphant  in  the  West,  and 
the  prestige  of  Britain  in  a  woeful  plight,  it  was  at 
least  no  fault  of  theirs. 

On  arriving  at  Wills  Creek  they  heard  that  the 
North  Carolina  regiment  who  had  been  ordered  to 
support  them  had  mutinied  on  the  way,  while  the 
New  York  contingent  were  still  labouring  south- 
wards with  a  tribe  of  women  and  children  and  no 
equipment  for  a  campaign ! 

The  fight  at  the  Great  Meadows  was  in  itself  a 
s'Jiall  affair,  but  its  effect  was  prodigious.  Judged 
by  modem  ethics,  it  seems  incredible  that  formal 
peace  between  France  and  England  should  remain 
undisturbed  by  such  proceedings ;  but  we  shall 
see  that  the  peace  outlasted  events  far  more  criti- 
cal, owing  to  the  desire  of  France  to  get  more 
forward  in  her  preparations  before  the  coming 
struggle  actually  opened,  and  to  the  apathy  reign- 

73 


1 1 


i 


>i 


f 


II 


'  I'll 

it  U: 


A  I 


J,ii 


^ 


^ 


\\ 


1 


JJ, 


EFFECTS  OF  BRITISH  BEYEBSE    [1754 

ing  in  the  councils  of  England.  But,  peace  or  war, 
the  great  conflict  had  begun,  and  the  incapacity  of 
the  colonies  to  help  themselves  had  been  so  fully 
demonstrated  as  to  turn  men's  minds  across  the  sea, 
as  to  the  only  quarter  from  which  efficient  help  could 
be  expected. 


II '\ 


rf 


:>  ii  / 


74 


t! 


w 


[1764 

r  war, 
ity  of 
f uUy 
le  sea, 
could 


'♦  i, 


1754]       WASHINGTON  THANKED 


CHAPTER  III 

DINWIDDIE  was  full  of  wrath  when  Washington 
reached  Williamsburg   with  the  news   of  his 
discomfiture    and  the  state  of    affairs   beyond  the 
mountains.     His  zeal,  useful  as  it  was,  greatly  ex- 
ceeded his  military  discretion,  though  this  is  not  to 
imply  for  a  moment  that  he  was  out  of  temper  with 
Washington.     Indeed,  he  warmly  thanked  both  him" 
and  his  men,  as  did  also  the  Virginia  legislature,  and 
well  they  may  have,  seeing  how  bravely  they  had 
conducted  themselves  under  dangers  that  no  military 
commander  would  have  sent  so  weak  a  force  to  face. 
Dinwiddle's  ire  was  expended  rather    on  the   dila- 
toriness  with  which  the  other  colonies  had  supported 
his  efforts,  foi*  to   this   he   attributed   the  discom- 
fiture of  hin   little  army.     The  affair  of  the    Great 
Meadows,  we  may  well  believe,  was  now  the  talk 
of    the  back  country   from  New   Orleans  to  Lake 
Erie  and  the  joy  of  Canada.     No  English  trader  dare 
any  longer  cross  the  mountains.      British   prestige 
had   vanished  in  the  West,    and   the  French  were 
everywhere  paramount ;  yet  the  colonists  were  still 
quarrelling  briskly,  both  with  one  another  and  with 
their  governors,  concerni:  ^g  land  grants  and  patents 
situated  in  this  very  country. 

The  Virginia  legislature,  as  I  have  said,  passed  a 

75 


\\ 


i  I  I 


if 


si 


i 


ENGLAND  PROTESTS 


[1754 


<-fi!li 


if  1 1 


'  I 


I  t 


if 


w 


vote  of  thanks  to  Washington  and  his  men,  and  ex- 
pressed proper  regret  at  their  misfortunes.  Im- 
portuned by  Dinwiddie,  they  voted  £20,000  for 
military  purposes,  but  again  saddled  with  some 
irrelevant  condition  that  the  Governor  was  by  his 
instructions  not  free  to  sign.  Soon  afterwards,  how- 
ever, they  voted  the  money  without  the  obnoxious 
rider.  "  Thank  God,"  wrote  the  distraught  official 
in  the  middle  of  this  contest,  "  I  have  never  before 
had  to  do  with  such  obstinate  and  self-conceited 
people.     A  governor  is  truly  an  object  of  pity." 

The  British  ambassador  at  Paris  in  the  meantime 
had  made  urgent  representations  to  the  Government 
of  Versailles  regarding  what  his  nation  considered 
to  be  the  unjustifiable  occupation  of  the  Ohio 
Valley,  but  to  no  purpose. 

In  the  preceding  year  the  lords  of  the  Board  of 
trade  and  plantations  had  ordered  the  various 
Governors  of  colonies  to  make  some  efforts  at  com- 
bination, and  the  result  had  been  a  conference  at 
Albany,  where  representatives  from  seven  provinces 
met,  both  to  discuss  this  question  and  to  confer  with 
the  chiefs  of  the  Six  Nations  who  had  ready  access 
to  the  New  York  frontier  town.  Benjamin  Franklin, 
from  Pennsylvania,  already  held  to  be  one  of  the 
most  capable  men  in  the  country,  had  elaborated  a 
scheme  of  colonial  combination  that  was  pronounced 
to  be  excellently  conceived,  and  went  a  considerable 
way  towards  the  results  that  in  later  days  were  so 
painfully  but  successfully  achieved  without  the  help 
of  England.  Neither  party,  however,  were  prepared 
to  accept  it.  The  mother  country  thought  it  gave 
the  colonists  too  much  power,  while  the  latter,  on 
the  other  hand,  jealous  to  a  fault  of  their  inde- 

m 


*T!  ■ 


1754]     THE  SIX  NATION  INDIANS 

pendence,  thought  Franklin's  scheme  encroached  on 
what  they  already  possessed.  The  commissioners 
were  the  best  men  of  their  respective  colonies,  and 
approved  of  the  plan ;  but  they  had  no  authority  to 
act,  and  their  constituents  were  not  in  accord  with 
them. 

The  desperate  endeavours  of  the  French  to  under- 
mine the  attachment  of  the  Six  Nations  towards 
the  English,  and  procure  their  support,  had  not  been 
without  effect,  and  they  had  been  materially  assisted 
by  the  bad  conduct  of  the  Dutch  traders  from 
the  Hudson,  and  even  of  the  New  York  Com- 
missioners. Detachments  of  these  hitherto  staunch 
tribes  had  been  already  enticed  away,  some  into 
Canada,  others  southward  into  the  Ohio  Valley. 
The  revolt  of  the  Iroquoib  (to  use  a  convenient  term), 
whom  the  treaty  of  Aix-la-Chapelle  had  actually 
recognised  as  English  subjects,  would  have  been 
disastrous.  Of  infinite  service,  however,  at  this 
crisis  was  a  young  Irishman  of  good  birth,  named 
Johnson,  who  had  settled  in  the  back  country  on  the 
Mohawk  River,  and  acquired  an  immense  influence 
over  these  particular  nations.  He  was  now,  of 
course,  at  Albany  in  person,  and  the  Indian  chiefs 
did  not  mince  their  words.  They  accused  the 
English  of  deserting  them,  while  the  French  were 
continually  soliciting  their  friendship;  of  failing  to 
build  forts,  while  their  enemies  were  swarming  into 
the  country ;  of  already  discussing  the  partition  of 
their  lands  and  of  quarrelling  at  that  very  moment 
with  the  French  about  territory  that  belonged  to 
neither ;  while  for  the  Dutch  traders  from  Albany 
they  had  not  a  good  word  to  say.  The  Six  Nations 
were,  in  fact,  on  the  very  verge  of  repudiating  the 

77 


ii"i 


i  f 


:il 


1^  11 


■  '  If 
1    i 

'■i 


,#.■ 


:  1  / 


'i    ''    : 


■  'a 


..  \ 


I  N  ' 


THE  GERMAN  COLONISTS      [1754 

old  alliance.  Johnson,  however,  was  the  man  of  the 
hour,  who  stepped  into  the  breach — one  of  those 
many  Britons  whose  sway  over  native  races  has  been 
of  more  profit  to  his  country  than  rifles  and  regi- 
ments, and  we  shall  hear  of  him  again. 

The  Dutch  and  English,  as  I  have  before  noted, 
were   for   all    practical    purposes    one   people ;    but 
the  Germans  of  Pennsylvania  and  the  Jerseys  were, 
in  Franklin's  opinion,  a  wholly  undesirable  element, 
and    even    a    dangerous   one  in   times   like  these. 
He  admits   that   they    were   plodding,    industrious, 
and  peaceable ;  but  their  rapid  increase  and  rejection 
of  the  language  of  their  adopted  country  made  him 
fear  that  the  province  of  Pennsylvania  might  in 
time    become    wholly    German,    and    the    English 
tongue  actually  die  out.     In  the  legislature  and  the 
law  courts  their  language,  he  says,  was  becoming  an 
intolerable  nuisance,  and  their  stupidity,  he  declares, 
alarmed  him.     People  were  even  beginning  to  con- 
sider whether  it  was  advisable  to  admit  them  at  all 
as  immigrants.     They  not  only  refused  to  arm  in 
defence  of  the  province,  but  mocked  openly  at  those 
who  did,  and  were  in  the  habit  of  remarking  that 
they  would  as  soon  be  under  French  as  English  rule.* 
A  little  of   the  most  Catholic  king,  of  his  arch- 
bishops,  and  his    thieving    officials   and  iron-fisted 
generals  would  very  soon  have  satisfied  these  poor 
ignorant    Lutherans.      Yet  in    spite  of    Franklin's 
contempt  for  their  persons  and  his  dread  of  their 
numbers,  it  may  not   be  amiss   to   remember   that 

*  The  familiar  American  colloquialisms  "Yankee  Dutchman," 
"  Pennsylvania  Dutch,"  have  no  allusion  to  the  Dutch  proper  of 
New  York,  hut  apply  wholly  to  the  German-American  stock  of 
Pennsylvania  and  the  neighhouring  States. 

78 


•    ^h. 


1755]    BRITISH  TROOPS  DESPATCHED 

either  want  or  the  attraction  of  pay  made  soldiers 
eventually  of  many  of  them,  for  our  present  60th 
Bifles,  as  will  soon  appear,  chiefly  consisted  in  its 
inception  of  German- Americans.  But  the  result  of 
aU  this  chaos,  this  jealousy  between  colonies,  this 
general  inability  to  divine  the  future,  and  helpless- 
ness in  face  of  a  determined  and  united  foe,  was  an 
urgent  demand  on  the  home  Government  to  send 
out  troops   and  a  competent  general. 

Parliament  met  in  November,  1754,  and  money 
was  then  voted  for  the  despatch  of  troops  to  Hisk 
Majesty's  American  plantations — only,  be  it  noted, 
for  their  protection, — ^no  declaration  of  war  being 
so  much  as  hinted  at.  So  before  January  was  out, 
the  44th  and  48th  regiments  of  the  line  had  sailed 
from  Cork  Harbour,  and  a  fleet  of  transports  was 
labouring  heavily  westwards  through  the  wintry 
seas. 

England  at  this  moment  was  neither  happy  in  her 
rulers  nor  well  equipped  for  war.  Her  navy,  it  is 
true,  was  considerable ;  but  her  army  had  been  reduced 
to  twenty  thousand  men — about  the  number,  in  fact, 
that  the  small  provinces  of  New  England  four  years 
later  placed  in  the  field.  Her  generals  were  of  very 
moderate  capacity,  though  among  the  younger 
officers  there  was  some  rising  talent,  which  jobbery 
and  corruption  could  not  wholly  strangle.  Affairs  of 
state,  too,  were  just  now  in  lamentable  hands.  The 
ridiculous  Newcastle,  to  whom  politics  in  its  petty 
sense  was  a  passion  and  who  had  no  conception  of 
anything  loftier  than  distributing  patronage  with  the 
sole  object  of  retaining  office,  was  Prime  Minister. 
Sir  Thomas  Robinson  had  charge  of  the  colonies,  in 
connection  with  whom  it  has  been  said  that  New-^ 

79 


ii»: 


/  m 


V- 


FRANCE  REPLIES 


[1755 


P 


\  " 


1^, 


h:. 


castle's  crowning  feat  was  in  finding  a  coadjutor  who 
was  a  greater  fool  than  himself.  If  there  had  been 
reasonable  prospects  of  a  lasting  peace,  the  British 
ambassador  at  Paris,  Lord  Albemarle,  was  not 
calculated  to  improve  them.  His  success  as  an 
absorber  of  lucrative  positions  without  capacity  for 
any  of  them  is  the  text  of  a  somewhat  memorable 
paragraph  on  the  value  of  good  manners  in  one  of 
Lord  Chesterfield's  letters  to  his  son.  He  points  out 
the  moral  of  "  a  mere  Dutch  gentleman,  without 
estate,  learning,  parts,  political  abilities  or  appli- 
cation," achieving  such  a  position  by  "his  air,  his 
address,  his  manners,  and  his  graces."  He  was 
infatuated  with  a  French  mistress,  who  not  only 
ruined  him  but  sold  his  secrets  to  the  Govern- 
ment. Albemarle  died  just  before  the  English 
expedition  sailed,  and  it  was  then  too  late  for 
diplomacy  to  do  anything  but  stave  off  the  inevitable 
conflict.  But  this  France  alone  was  interested  in 
doing  till  her  preparations  were  complete.  Great 
Britain,  though  her  statesmen  talked  peace,  made  no 
further  pretensions  to  act  it. 

It  must  not  be  supposed,  however,  that  the  de- 
spatch of  the  British  force  had  been  unobserved  by 
France.  On  the  contrary,  it  was  regarded  in  some 
sort  as  a  challenge,  and  3,000  soldiers,  with  a  new 
Governor  of  Canada,  the  Marquis  de  Vaudreuil, 
sailed,  after  much  delay  and  under  a  strong  naval 
escort,  from  Brest,  early  in  May.  Yet  in  the  face 
of  these  unmistakable  demonstrations,  the  two 
Governmerts  assured  each  other  of  their  sentiments 
of  mutual  friendship  and  esteem,  advancing  at  the 
same  time  their  respective  claims  in  America,  which 
were    hopelessly    irreconcilable.     If    the  secret    in- 

80 


1755] 


A  SEA  FIGHT 


structions  deposited  with  each   commander  had   at 
that  moment  been    published  to  the    world,   they 
would  have  caused  no  little  astonishment.    Boscawen 
and  Holborne,  with  some  eighteen  ships  of  the  line 
between  them,  were  in  the  meantime  despatched  in 
two  parties  to  cut  off  the  French,  an  attempt  which 
met  with  very  little  success.     Off  the  coast  of  Nova 
Scotia,  however,  two  advanced  British  ships  came  up 
with   an  equal  number  of    French     stragglers,  the 
Alcide  and  the  Lys.     Hocquart,  the  commander  of 
the  Alcide,  shouted  through  a  speaking  trumpet  to 
Howe    (afterwards  Lord    Howe),    of    the   Dunkirk, 
whether  it  was  peace  or  war.     A  French   account 
runs  that  Howe  called  out  "  La  Pais,  La  Paix"  and 
after  inquiring  the  French  captain's  name  poured  a 
broadside  into  him.     Howe's  story  is  that  he  replied 
he  did  not  know  till  he  had  signalled  to  Boscawen, 
but  he  advised  Hocquart  to  be  prepared  for  war. 
Then  came  the  signal  to  fight,  and  the  action  opened 
which  ended  with   the  capture  of  the  two  French 
ships,  carrying  eight  companies  of  soldiers,  and  the 
loss  of  eighty-six  men  on  the  French  side  and  thirty- 
four  on  the  British.     The  rest   of  the  French  fleet 
were  safe  in  Louisbourg  Harbour.     The  news  of  this 
fresh  collision  caused  some   excitement  in  Europe. 
The  Versailles  Government  recalled  its  ambassador, 
but  still  shrank  from  declaring  war.     All  this  took 
place  in  the  month  of  June,  during  which  events  of 
still  more  serious  moment  were  hastening  to  a  crisis 
in  the  forests  of  the  AUeghanies. 

On  the  20th  of  February  the  small  British  arma- 
ment cast  anchor  in  Hampton  Roads,  Virginia,  when 
General  Braddock,  who  was  in  command,  proceeded 
at  once  to  Williamsburg,  the  capital  of  the  colony,  to 

81  a 


-I 


i 


iffTi-Tvr 


BRADDOOK 


[1755 


*    '     i! 


JlMi 


iii'! 


n  \v 


» ',* 


confer  with  its  eager  and  expectant  Governor,  Din- 
widdie.  The  fleet  then  sailed  up  the  Potomac  and 
deposited  the  troops  where  the  Virginia  town  of 
Alexandria,  l>hen  in  its  infancy,  now  looks  across  the 
broad  river  towards  the  noble  buildings  of  the  city 
of  Washington.  These  two  regiments  were  the  first 
substantial  force  of  British  regulars  that  had  ever 
landed  on  American  soil,  unless,  indeed,  we  go  back 
to  that  curious  revolt  against  Governor  Berkeley  in 
1676  and  the  brief  civil  war  in  Virginia,  which  was 
finally  extinguished  by  the  landing  of  a  mixed 
battalion  of  Guards. 

Concerning  Braddock,  seeing  that  his  name  has  been 
immortalized  by  the  tragedy  for  which  some  hold 
him,  in  part,  accountable,  a  word  or  two  must  be 
said.  He  was  now  over  sixty  years  of  age,  and  was 
the  choice  of  the  Duke  of  Cumberland,  then  com- 
mander-in-chief. As  he  had  neither  wealth  nor 
influence,  American  warfare  not  being  in  request  by 
fortune's  favourites,  we  may  fairly  suppose  that  he 
was  selected  on  his  merits.  No  name  has  been  more 
irresponsibly  played  upon  and  few  reputations  per- 
haps more  hardly  used  than  Braddock's  by  most 
writers  of  history  and  nearly  all  writers  of  flction. 
His  personality,  from  its  very  contrast  to  the  wild 
woods  in  which  he  died,  has  caught  the  fancy  of  in- 
numerable pen's,  and  justice  has  been  sadly  sacrificed 
to  picturesque  effect.  One  is  almost  inclined  to  think 
that  the  mere  fact  of  his  name  beginning  with  a 
letter  which  encourages  a  multiplication  of  strenuous 
epithets,  has  been  against  him.  He  is  regarded  as 
the  typical  redcoat  of  the  Hanoverian  period  by  all 
American  writers — burly,  brutal,  blundering,  blas- 
phemous, but  happily  always,  and  without  a  dissen- 

82 


[1765 


city 


1755]      BRADDOCK'S  CHARACTER 

tient  note,  brave — ^brave  indeed  as  a  lion.  This 
familiar  picture  of  our  poor  general,  as  a  corpulent, 
red-faced,  blaspheming  bulldog,  riding  roughshod 
over  colonial  susceptibilities,  tones  down  amazingly 
when  one  comes  to  hard  facts.  Legends  of  his 
former  life  are,  with  peculiar  lack  of  generosity, 
quoted  for  what  they  are  worth,  and  when  examined 
they  seem  to  be  worth  nothing.  Walpole  airs  his 
wit  in  one  or  two  doubtful  aspersions,  and  a  play  of 
Fielding's  is  with  little  reason  supposed  to  satirize 
the  general's  earlier  years.  What  is  really  known 
about  Braddock  is  in  his  favour.  Vanquished  in  a 
duel,  he  had  been  too  proud  to  ask  his  life.  In  com- 
mand at  Gibraltar  he  was  "  adored  by  his  men,'*  and 
this  though  he  was  notorious  as  a  strict  discipli- 
narian, a  quality  which  Wolfe  at  this  very  time 
declares  to  be  the  most  badly  needed  one  in  the 
British  army.  He  had  been  in  the  Guards,  had 
enjoyed  a  private  income  of  some  £300  a  year,  which 
it  may  be  noted,  since  spendthrift  is  one  of  the 
epithets  hurled  at  him,  he  slightly  increased  during 
his  lifetime.  The  night  before  Braddock  sailed,  he 
went  with  his  two  aides,  Burton  and  Orme,  to  see 
Mrs.  Bellamy,  and  left  her  his  will,  drawn  up  in 
favour  of  her  husband.  He  also  produced  a  map,  and 
remarked,  with  a  touch  of  melancholy,  that  he  was 
^'  going  forth  to  conquer  whole  worlds  with  a  handful 
of  men,  and  to  do  so  must  cut  his  way  through  un- 
known woods."  He  was,  in  fact,  the  first  British 
general  to  conduct  a  considerable  campaign  in  a 
remote  wilderness.  He  had  neither  precedents  nor 
the  experience  of  others  to  guide  him,  and  he  found 
little  help  in  the  colonies  where  he  had  heen.  taught 
to  look  for  much.      He  has  been  accused  of  dis- 

83 


li 


i' 


.ii; 


'f' 


^^rr--?.  >--«•»• 


BBADDOCE  AND  THE  COLONISTS    [1755 

paraging  the  colonial  irregulars  and  neglecting  to 
utilize  the  Indians.      As  to  the  first  taunt,  having 
regard  to  the  appearance  and  discipline  of  the  pro- 
vincial troops  that  were  paraded  before  Braddock^ 
he  would  not,  as  a  soldier  trained  on  European  fields^ 
have  been  human  had  he  not  refrained  from  all  open 
criticism ;   as  to  the  second,  we  shall  see  that  it  was 
untrue.  Information  regarding  colonial  resources  was 
then  vague  in  England.     Braddock  had  been  given 
to  understand  that  the  transport  and  commissariat 
would  be  provided  by  Virginia  and  her  neighbours  ; 
whereas   he  now  found  that  not  only   was  nothing 
ready,  but  that  there  was  no  ground  even  for  future 
expectations  in  that  particular.     If,  as  an  officer  of 
the  Cumberland  rSgime,  he  had  used  the  vigorous 
language  of  that  school,  it  would  surely  have  been 
almost  justified  by  circumstances ;  but  there  is  no 
particular  evidence  that  he  did  even  so  much.     His 
accomplishments   in  this  line  are  in  all   probability 
part  of  the  more  or  less  fancy  dress  in  which  writers 
have  delighted  to  clothe  him.     Robert  Orme  of  the 
35th  regiment,  and  recently  of  the  Coldstreams,  was 
one  of  the  general's  aide-de-camps,  and  has  left  us  an 
invaluable   journal  of  this    expedition.     Orme  wa» 
highly  thought  of  both  by  regulars  and  provincials, 
and  regarded  as  a  man  of  great  sense  and  judgment, 
even  by    those   who    did  not  like    Braddock    and 
thought  him,  from  their  colonial  point  of  view,  un- 
conciliatory  and  overbearing.      Orme  in  his  private 
diary  gives  no  hint  that  Braddock  was  the  violent, 
unreasonable,  foul-mouthed  person  of  the  magazine 
writer.     He  was  as  much  disheartened  as  his  chief 
by  the    appearance    and    seeming  temper    of    the 
colonial  troops,  and  dwells  on  the  trying  conditions- 

84 


[1755 


1755] 


THE  BRITISH  CAMP 


which  Braddock  had  to  meet  and  the  energy  and 
honesty  with  which  he  endeavoured  to  do  his  duty. 
The  two  British  regiments  in  the  meantime  were 
being  raised  from  500  men  to  a  strength  of  700  by 
provincial  enlistment.  The  4:4th  was  commanded  by 
Sir  Peter  Halkett,  a  good  officer,  who,  ten  years 
previously,  had  been  captured  by  the  Pretender  and 
released  on  parole.  The  48th  were  under  Dunbar, 
who  acquitted  himself  but  poorly  as  we  shall  see. 
The  camp  of  exercise  on  the  Potomac  was  a  strange 
and  inspiring  sight  to  the  colonists,  who  had  now 
begun  in  some  sort  to  realize  the  French  danger. 
With  all  their  seeming  apathy,  the  Virginians  and 
Marylanders  were  staunchly  loyal.  The  echoes  from 
far-off  European  fields,  won  or  fiercely  disputed 
by  the  intrepidity  of  British  soldiers,  were  still 
ringing  in  their  ears.  Stories  of  Dettingen  and 
Fontenoy  were  yet  told  by  cabin  fires  and  on  the 
planters'  shady  porches  by  new-comers  from  Eng- 
land and  sometimes,  no  doubt,  by  men  who  had  as- 
sisted in  those  glorious  victories  and  scarcely  less 
glorious  defeats.  Here  now  were  these  redoubtable 
redcoats,  gay  in  all  the  glitter  and  panoply  of  war, 
actually  marching  and  manoeuvring  on  the  warm 
soil  of  thfo  Old  Dominion.  If  there  had  been  any- 
thing in  this  French  scare,  there  was  now  at  any 
rate  no  further  cause  for  alarm.  It  was  a  great  op- 
portunity, too,  for  the  gentry  of  the  Potomac  shore  to 
indulge  at  the  same  time  their  loyal  and  their  social 
instincts.  Tradition  says  that  the  ladies  appreciated 
the  situation  more  than  the  gentlemen  of  the  colony, 
who  were  not  over-pleased  at  the  supercilious  bearing 
of  the  British  officers.  Washington,  whose  estate  at 
Mount  Vernon  lay  within  a  few  miles  of  the  Alexan- 

85 


iV 


1} 


.1 


A  COUNCIL  OF  WAR 


[1755 


N; 


:     U 


m 


U.I' 


i'i 


i  f, 


i!i, 


dria  camp,  was  a  frequent  visitor.  A  stickler  always 
for  punctilio  and  with  a  keen  sense  of  justice,  he  had 
resented  an  order  which  placed  all  king's  officers 
over  all  provincial  officers,  irrespective  of  rank  or 
experience,  and  before  Braddock's  landing  had  resigned 
his  commission.  Such  a  keen  soldier  as  he,  was  sorely 
tantalized,  we  may  be  sure,  by  all  this  pomp  of  war. 
Nobody  ever  seems  to  have  thought  of  snubbing  Wash- 
ington, and  to  save  him  the  indignity  he  would  not 
stomach,  namely,  that  of  ranking,  colonel  as  he  was, 
under  a  British  ensign,  Braddock  with  kindly  fore- 
thought placed  him  on  his  personal  staff.  Curiously 
enough,  there  seems  to  have  been  no  general  misgiv- 
ing as  to  the  ability  of  these  well-drilled  redcoats  to 
meet  the  French  and  Indians  in  the  heart  of  the 
forests.  On  the  contrary,  save  for  an  occasional 
note  of  doubt,  the  middle  colonies  only  saw  in 
these  invincible  warriors  an  instrument  which  was  to 
sweep  the  French  for  ever  from  their  path  and  from 
their  minds. 

A  council  of  colonial  governors  and  British  officers 
was  held  at  Alexandria  onAprill4th,  when  a  definite 
plan  for  the  season's  operations  was  drawn  up.  The 
chief  expedition,  of  course,  was  that  of  Braddock  and 
his  regulars  against  Fort  Duquesne,  already  decided 
upon.  But  it  was  thought  advisable  to  distract  the 
French  at  other  points  with  such  forces  as  the  British 
Americans  had  at  their  disposal.  Shirley,  the  clever 
and  capable  Governor  of  Massachusetts,  though  of 
middle  age  and  no  soldier,  had  some  passion  for 
military  glory,  and  was  immensely  gratified  at  being 
placed  in  command  of  a  force  destined  for  the 
capture  of  Niagara.  Acadia,  now  in  the  throes  of 
those  troubles  alluded  to  in  a  former  chapter,  was  to 

86 


\  i 


11 ! 


1755]    STRENGTH  OF  THE  ENEMY 

be  the  scene  of  a  vigorous  xnovement  by  Monck- 
ton  against  the  troublesome  French  fort  of  Beause- 
jour  on  the  boundary.  Johnson,  the  backwoods 
statesman  and  soldier,  was  to  strike  at  the  chain  of 
lak<^s  which  led  due  north  from  Albany  to  Canada 
and  formed  that  famous  and  bloodstained  highway 
between  the  two  countries  which  will  be  the  scene 
of  many  later  chapters  in  this  book.  For  the  present 
it  will  be  enough  to  say  that  these  blows  were  to  be 
struck  almost  entirely  by  the  better  organized  pro- 
vincial militia  of  the  Northern  colonies.  The  limited 
nature  of  their  success  will  be  briefly  alluded  to 
hereafter,  and  the  remainder  of  this  chapter  will  be 
devoted  to  that  tragic  and  memorable  disaster  known 
as  "  Braddock's  defeat." 

In  Canada  there  were  now  available,  or  soon  would 
be,  3,000  troops  of  the  line,  in  addition  to  the  2,000 
marine  or  colony  regulars  and  the  colonial  militia, 
estimated  at  about  15,000.  Nor  does  this  include 
the  Louisbourg  garrison,  numbering  1,400  regulars. 
What  fraction  of  this  force  had  moved  southwards 
through  tha  vast  wilderness  to  Fort  Duquesne  no 
one  for  a  certainty  then  knew.  It  was  the  key  to 
the  Ohio  Valley,  and,  indeed,  to  the  whole  situation, 
and  strenuous  efforts  would  be  made  to  hold  it. 
There  were  not  believed  to  be  as  yet  more  than  500 
white  troops  on  the  spot,  but  the  number  of  Indians 
was  an  entirely  unknown  quantity,  and  they  were 
quite  as  formidable  so  long  as  they  remained  in 
real  earnest  on  the  war-path. 

As  regards  Indian  help  for  Braddock,  Dinwiddle 
had  undertaken  that  120  warriors  should  be  at  his 
service.  It  was  not  his  fault  that  less  than  half  that 
number,    and    those    anything    but    zealous,    came 

87 


I, 


p 


/ 


I 


ttaiumci 


Mib—Tum' 


■  f  ■ 


,:< 


DIFFICULTIES  OF  TRANSPORT    [1755 

straggling  in.  They  were  so  hampered,  moreover, 
with  women  and  children  that  the  provincial  officers 
assured  Braddock  that  the  tax  on  the  commissariat 
would  be  greater  than  the  assistance  of  so  small  a 
number  was  worth.  The  general  has  been  roundly- 
accused  of  despising  Indian  help,  whereas  he  never 
had  a  chance  to  reject  it  in  any  substantial  form, 
though  he  made  all  the  advances  which  his  some- 
what helpless  position  admitted  of  ;  indeed,  he  made 
their  backwardness  one  of  his  chief  complaints. 
As  it  was,  less  than  a  dozen  went  through  to  the  end 
with  him  as  scouts.  Braddock  had  now  been  two 
months  in  Virginia,  and  in  spite  of  indefatigable 
exertions  found  himself  thwarted  and  balked  at 
every  turn.  If  he  showed  some  temper  and  used 
strong  language,  he  may  well  be  excused,  for  though 
1,500  horses  and  125  wagons  were  needed,  and  had 
been  promised,  by  the  end  of  April,  25  wagons  only 
had  been  secured,  and  those  mostly  by  his  ow  a  ex- 
ertions I  There  were,  in  fact,  no  wagons  to  speak 
of  in  all  Virginia.  They  were  not  then  necessary  to 
its  single  industry,  as  any  one  familiar  with  that 
country  and  its  peculiar  conditions  can  readily  under- 
stand. 

Benjamin  Franklin,  then  postmaster  at  Phila- 
delphia, was  at  the  general's  right  hand,  dining  daily 
at  his  table — "the  first  capable  and  sensible  man  I 
have  met  in  the  country,"  wrote  poor  Braddock  to 
his  Government.^  Franklin  undertook  the  wagon 
business,  and  with  great  effect  he  turned  to  Pennsyl- 
vania, a  colony  of  prosperous  small  farmers,  apa- 
thetic as  to  the  war,  but  possessed  of  abundant 

*  Franklin,  it  must  be  admitted,  did  not  return  Braddock's  regard. 

88 


1755]  MUSTER  AT  FORT  CUMBERLAND 

agricultural  requisites.  Franklin  appealed  not  to 
their  patriotism  but  to  their  pockets,  or  rather  to 
their  fears,  telling  them  roundly  that  it  would  be 
better  to  hire  their  wagons  and  teams  to  His  Majesty's 
Government  than  wait  till  they  were  dragooned,  as 
with  a  fine  touch  of  ready  audacity  he  assured  them 
they  certainly  would  be.  He,  moreover,  pledged  his 
personal  credit,  and  both  the  required  \!^agons  and 
several  hundred  horses  were  collected  in  a  few  days. 
With  the  food  contractors  in  Virginia,  too,  there 
was  infinite  difficulty:  the  meat  was  rancid,  the 
flour  was  short,  while  many  of  the  horses  were  after- 
wards stolen  by  the  very  men  who  had  sold  them. 
Whatever  were  Braddock's  faults,  and  one  of  them 
no  doubt  was  cursing  both  the  country  and  the 
Government  which  sent  him  there,  he  at  least  spared 
neither  himself  nor  his  private  purse,  which  last 
he  drew  upon  freely,  Orme  tells  us,  in  his  struggle 
for  ways  and  means. 

Wills  Creek  or  Fort  Cumberland,  a  former  trad- 
ing station  some  hundred  miles  westward  up  the 
Potomac,  was  to  be  the  actual  base  of  the  expedition 
against  Fort  Duquesne.  It  was  behind  the  settle- 
ments, and  stood  amid  a  stump-strewn  clearing  in 
the  forests  on  the  Maryland  shore  of  the  river.  By 
the  middle  of  May,  and  by  various  routes,  Braddock's 
whole  force  had  gathered  at  this  backwoods  station, 
which  was  bounded  on  one  side  by  the  river  and 
on  the  other  three  by  the  leafy  walls  of  the  pri- 
maeval forest.  Braddock  himself  had  crossed  the 
Blue  Ridge  into  the  valley  of  the  Shenandoah,  and 
paid  a  visit  en  route  to  the  eccentric  Lord  Fairfax, 
near  the  backwoods  village  of  Winchester,  where 
Washington  joined  his  staff.    Thence,  moving  north- 

89 


.'' 


li 


m 

i'-l 
I 


.4 


I 


1.3b. 


BBADDOOE'S  ABMT  ADVANCES    [1755 


■i 


'!•■ 


ward,  he  crossed  the  Potomac,  resumed  command 
of  his  army  at  Fort  Cumberland,  and  after  a  few 
more  struggles  with  belated  contractors  of  food, 
forage,  or  horses,  by  the  7th  of  June  was  in  a  con- 
dition to  commence  his  march  with  safety. 

The  small  force  was  divided  into  two  brigades. 
The  Srat  was  under  Sir  Peter  Halkett,  and  contained 
the  44th  regiment,  now  numbering  700  effective  men, 
with  230  New  York,  Virginia,  and  Maryland  rangers 
and  50  carpenters.  The  second  brigade,  under  Dun- 
bar, included  the  48th  regiment,  650  strong,  170 
rangers  from  the  Carolinas,  somewhat  less  from 
Virginia,  and  35  carpenters,  in  all  nearly  2,000  men. 
It  was  absolutely  necessary  to  take  supplies  for 
not  less  than  nine  weeks,  since  122  miles  of  rugged 
and  heavily  wooded  mountain  country  had  to  be 
traversed,  where  no  subsistence  worth  mentioning 
for  either  man  or  beast  was  to  be  found,  to  say  no- 
thing of  the  piovisions  for  the  troops  to  be  left 
as  garrison  of  the  backwoods  fortress  which  they 
hoped  to  capture.  The  44th,  under  Halkett,  were 
the  first  to  enter  the  forest;  next  came  the  pro- 
vincials, under  Burton,  while  Dunbar  and  the  48th, 
with  the  general  and  his  staff,  brought  up  the  rear. 
Washington,  who  from  illness  and  other  private 
reasons  had  been  as  yet  little  with  Braddock,  ven- 
tured to  contest  the  sweeping  verdict  of  the  harassed 
general,  namely,  that  the  population  of  these 
colonies  consisted  chiefly  of  knaves  or  fools.  But 
Washington  had  not  shared  his  commander's  troubles, 
though  he  had  plenty  of  his  own  of  a  like  nature 
a  few  months  later,  and  has  left  comments  upon 
them  as  strong  as  poor  Braddock's.  All  the  sym- 
pathy the  unfortunate  general  got  from  the  British 

90 


■'lif 


1755]  DIFFICULTIES  OF  THE  FOREST 

public  was  probably  expressed  with  tolerable  accuracy 
by  Horace  Walpole,  who  amused  his  fellow-dandies  at 
St.  James'  by  remarking  that  Br^^ddock  seemed  "  in 
no  hurry  to  get  scalped." 

The  route  followed  to  the  Great  Meadows  was  much 
the  same  as  that  used  by  Washington  and  his  small 
force  in  the  preceding  year,  but  now  a  road  twelve 
feet  wide  had  to  be  opened  over  the  rugged,  tree- 
encumbered  ground.  Its  course  lay  neithfr  over 
veldt,  nor  plain,  nor  prairie,  nor  sandy  desert,  nor 
Russian  steppe ;  but  over  two  high  ranges  of  moun- 
tains and  several  lesser  ridges,  clad  in  the  gloom  of 
mighty  forests,  littered  with  the  wreckage  of  un- 
numbered years,  riven  this  way  and  that  by  turbulent 
streams,  and  swarming  with  hostile  Indians.  After 
a  day  or  two's  march  it  was  generally  recognised, 
Orme  tells  us,  that  the  loads  must  be  lightened. 
This  done,  and  the  officers'  kits  reduced  to  bare 
necessities,  they  even  then  took  a  week  to  reach 
the  Little  Meadows,  only  twenty  miles  from  Fort 
Cumberland,  and  the  long  line,  which  had  to  guard 
against  surprise  at  every  point,  straggled  over  four 
miles.  A  strange  enough  sight  in  those  wild  woods 
must  have  been  the  long  train  of  jolting  wagons, 
dragged  by  ill-conditioned  horses,  growing  daily 
weaker ;  the  clumsy  tumbrils,  and  artillery,  and  am- 
munition carts  jolting  and  crashing  over  the  rough- 
made  track ;  the  strings  of  heavy-laden  pack-horses, 
stung  by  deer-flies  and  goaded  by  the  drivers'  whips, 
sliding  and  slipping  over  limestone  slabs,  and  flounder- 
ing amid  stumps  and  roots ;  the  droves  of  stunted 
cattle  shambling  unwillingly  along  the  unfenced 
track  ;  the  fresh-faced  soldiery,  in  tight  scarlet 
uniforms,  pigtails  and  pipeclay,  mitre  hats  and  black- 

91 


hi 


I! 


i! 


'i  !■ 


I'      *M 


BRADDOGE  AND  WASHINGTON    [1755 

paltered  legs,  sweltering  in  the  fierce,  unwonted  heat 
of  an  American  midsummer  sun,  whose  vertical  rays 
pierce  even  the  rich  canopy  of  leaves  that  high  June 
spreads  aloft,  and  which  rustle  so  temptingly  in  breezes 
unfelt  below. 

By  the  19th  of  June  it  was  evident  to  Braddock 
and  his  officers,  including  Washington,  that  greater 
expedition  must  be  made.  To  press  on  with  a  small 
force  merely  carrying  rations  was  out  of  the  question. 
Indian  runners  had  stated  the  French  at  Duquesne 
to  be  as  yet  comparatively  few,  but  the  number  of 
their  savage  allies  was  altogether  outside  calculation. 
Without  artillery,  the  fort  would  require  a  long 
siege — was,  in  fact,  impregnable ;  and  lastly  it  was 
perilous  any  longer  to  venture  in  small  numbers 
into  a  country  towards  which  the  French  were 
hastening  in  unknown  strength.  The  pace,  however, 
was  somewhat  mended  by  leaving  600  men,  in- 
cluding the  sick,  and  all  the  weaker  horses,  to 
come  leisurely  on  with  Dunbar;  while  Braddock, 
with  1,200  regulars  and  200  of  the  best  pro- 
vincials, pressed  forward  at  a  somewhat  less  snail- 
like rate.  Washington  was  so  ill  with  fever  that 
Braddock  absolutely  compelled  him  to  stay  with 
Dunbar's  rear  column,  promising  upon  his  honour 
to  have  him  sent  forward  to  the  front  in  time  for 
the  fight.  "  I  would  not  miss  it  for  £500,"  wrote 
the  ardent  young  soldier  to  his  friends  in  Virginia. 
So  Braddock,  making  the  patient  in  his  turn  solemnly 
promise  to  take  "Dr.  James's  powders,  the  best 
medicine  in  the  world,"  pressed  on  with  his  reduced 
column.  They  had  still  92  miles  between  them 
and  Fort  Duquesne,  but  now  managed  to  achieve 
between  five  and  six  miles  a  day.    Sometimes  their 

92 


ifitr 


1755]  IN  THE  SHADOW  OP  THE  WOODS 


\ 


slow  progress  lay  through  open  forests,  where  the 
giant  stems  of  oak  and  poplar,  chestnut  and  maple, 
rose  from  a  clean  carpet  of  fallen  leaves,  or  spread 
their  leafy  roof  over  wide-stretching  and  luxuriant 
masses  of  rhododendrons  and  azaleas,  just  now  in 
the  very  zenith  of  their  bloom ;  at  other  times 
they  were  brushing  between  sombre  walls  of  cy- 
press and  hemlock  which  hid  the  sunlight  and  the 
heat  from  dank  deep  soils  where  the  moss-grown 
carcases  of  fallen  trees  lay  heaped  together  in  all 
stages  of  decay.  Now  the  long  column  was  cling- 
ing precariously  to  a  precipitous  hillside,  beneath 
which  some  pent-up  torrent  churned  and  roared. 
Now  it  was  struggling — cattle,  horses,  wagons,  and 
men — in  some  rocky  channel,  where  a  shrunken 
stream  trickled  amid  the  debris  of  its  winter  floods. 
Signs  of  French  and  Indians  were  plentiful,  but 
as  yet  they  kept  their  distance,  filling  the  measure 
of  their  hostility  with  taunts  and  ribald  verses 
smeared  upon  the  trees.  Admirable  discipline  was 
maintained,  and  every  precaution  that  prudence  re- 
quired was  observed  by  Braddock.  Men  were  thrown 
out  upon  both  flanks  marching  abreast  through  the 
trees,  while  beyond  these  again  scouting  parties 
ranged  the  woods.  A  careless  straggler  was  ocr 
casionally  killed  and  scalped,  but  no  party  of  the 
enemy  ventured  an  attack  on  the  column,  attenuaiod 
though  it  of  necessity  was.  Christopher  Gist,  Wash- 
ington's former  guide,  acted  again  in  that  capacity, 
while  a  handful  of  Indians  and  mounted  Virginians 
cautiously  probed  the  forest  in  advance. 

On  the  7th  of  July,  after  a  month's  march,  the 
column  arrived  within  a  dozen  miles  of  its  desti- 
nation,   and    its    difficulties   seemed    almost    over. 

93 


I     ■ 


i 


THE  NIGHT  BEFORE  THE  BATTLE  [1755 


<r 


'  .fi 


I , 


Whatever  reinforcements  might  have  reached  Fort 
Duquesne,  the  French  and  their  allies  could  hardly 
be  in  great  strength,  or  some  sort  of  demonstration 
would  surely  have  been  made,  particularly  as  the 
Indians  had  small  liking  for  open  spaces  and  artil- 
lery. "Men  and  officers,"  says  Orme,  "had  now 
become  so  skilful  in  the  woods  that  they  were  no 
longer  in  fear  of  an  ambuscade."  Nor  did  Braddock 
for  that  matter,  as  is  often  loosely  stated,  eventually 
run  into  one.  The  army  was  now  within  a  few 
miles  of  the  Monongahela,  which  rolled  with 
broad  and  shallow  current  on  the  left  and  in  a 
north-westerly  direction  to  its  junction  with  the 
Alleghany.  These  two  rivers  unite  to  form  the  Ohio, 
and  in  the  angle  of  their  junction,  on  a  site 
now  buried  amid  the  smoke  and  din  of  Pittsburg, 
then  stood  the  lonely  fortress.  The  shortest  route 
for  Braddock  was  to  continue  his  course  parallel 
with  that  of  the  Monongahela,  but  the  broken  nature 
of  the  country  made  the  risk  too  great.  It  was  de- 
cided, therefore,  to  ford  the  river,  and  recross  it  at 
a  spot  some  five  miles  lower  down  and  eight  from 
the  French  fortress.  On  the  next  day,  July  the  8th, 
the  column  moved  down  to  within  a  couple  of 
miles  of  the  first  ford,  and  there  bivouacked  for 
the  night.  It  was  to  prove  the  last  sleep  from 
which  one  half,  at  any  rate,  of  the  poor  fellows 
who  there  made  their  beds  of  leaves  and  pine  brush 
were  ever  to  awaken.  Washington,  in  accoidance 
with  Braddock's  promise,  was  brought  up  that  even- 
ing, though  still  weak  with  fever,  having  left  Dunbar 
and  his  600  men  at  a  spot  called  Rock  Fort,  some 
fifty  miles  in  the  rear.  The  troops  were  to  cross 
the  river  twice  in  the  course  of    the  next   day's 

94 


1755]    PASSAGE  OF  THE  MONONGAHELA 

march,  and  if  all  was  well  would  camp  sufficiently 
near  the  fort  to  strike  it  on  the  following  morning, 
for  progress  had  now  become  much  easier.  At 
dawn  Sir  John  Sinclair  with  the  engineers  and  axe- 
men went  forward,  as  usual,  to  clear  the  road.  At 
sunrise  Gage,  of  later  and  less  favourable  notoriety 
in  the  Revolutionary  war,  but  now  a  promising  young 
brevet-colonel,  with  300  men  and  two  guns,  marched 
out  of  camp  to  occupy  the  second  ford,  some  five  miles 
below  the  first.  It  was  eight  o'clock  when  the  main 
body  waded  the  Monongahela,  and  it  had  scarcely  en- 
tered the  oak  forests  which  clothed  the  further  bank, 
when  a  messenger  from  Gage  arrived  announcing  that 
he  held  the  further  ford.  It  was  past  noon  when  the 
rest  of  the  column  arrived  there,  and  the  reunited  force 
was  drawn  up  by  Braddock  preparatory  to  making 
the  passage  of  the  river,  at  this  spot  about  two  hun- 
dred yards  broad,  with  some  pomp  and  circumstance. 
Beyond  the  river  the  ground  swelled  up  into  low 
hills,  clad  with  the  inevitable  forest.  No  enemy  was 
visible,  but  from  behind  that  vast  screen  of  foliage 
many  a  pair  of  eager  eyes,  both  French  and  Indian, 
were  fastened  on  the  broad  sheen  of  sunlit  waters 
which  here  broke  for  a  space  the  forest  and  its 
illimitable  canopy  of  leaves.  Knowing  this  full  well, 
and  regarding  with  some  justice  the  abandonment  of 
both  fords  as  a  confession  of  weakness,  Braddock 
determined  to  effect  this  last  passage  of  the  Monon- 
gahela in  a  fashion  worthy  the  soldiers  of  a  proud 
empire  coming  to  enforce  its  outraged  rights.  So 
the  troops  were  marched  across  by  companies  with 
much  precision  and  with  colours  flying,  while  drum 
and  fife  and  bugle  woke  the  echoes  of  the  woodland 
wilderness  with  stirring  and  familiar  strains. 

95 


ii 


iMiMMMti 


i 


ri'! 


f'  %' 


THE  TERRIBLE  WAR-WHOOP    [1755 

Reforming  on  the  further  bank,  the  column  moved 
forward  in  much  the  same  order  and  with  apparently 
no  less  caution  than  before.  Half  a  dozen  Indians  and 
some  Virginia  light  horsemen  felt  the  country  in 
advance.  Then  came  the  road-makers  with  Gage,  his 
two  guns  and  300  men,  while  as  many  yards  behind 
followed  the  main  column.  It  was  now  about  eight 
miles  to  the  fort,  and  the  order  was  to  march  till 
three  o'clock,  when  the  last  camp  would  be  pitched 
before  what  was  fondly  looked  for  as  the  crowning 
triumph  of  the  morrow. 

In  this  order  the  troops  had  proceeded  the  better 
part  of  a  mile,  and  had  reached  a  spot  where  the 
underbrush  grew  thicker  than  usual  beneath  the 
trees.  The  vanguard  under  Gage  had  just  crossed  a 
shallow  ravine,  when  the  scouts  and  horsemen  came 
rapidly  in,  and  at  the  same  moment  Gordon,  the 
engineer  who  was  marking  out  the  road,  caught  sight 
of  a  man,  dressed  as  an  Indian  but  wearing  the  gorget 
of  an  officer,  running  towards  him.  The  latter,  as 
soon  as  he  saw  the  English,  pulled  up  short  and 
waved  his  hat  over  his  head,  when  the  woods  in 
front  became  of  a  sudden  alive  with  warriors,  and 
the  Indian  war-whoop  ringing  from  nearly  a 
thousand  throats  shook  the  arches  of  the  forest 
with  its  novel  and  appalling  clamour.  Forms 
innumerable,  some  in  white  uniforms,  some  in 
blue,  still  more  in  the  weird  feathered  head-dress 
and  garish  pigments  of  the  Indian,  could  be  seen 
speeding  to  right  and  left  among  the  trees.  In 
a  few  moments  a  musketry  fire,  at  first  desultory 
but  as  each  fresh  enemy  found  cover  quickening 
rapidly  into  a  formidable  fusillade,  poured  in  upon 
Gage's  men.     For  a  short  time  many  of  the  foe  were 

96 


1755 


1755] 


THE  FIRST  SHOCK 


visible,  and  the  small  British  vanguard  wheeled  into 
line    and   delivered    two     or    three     volleys     with 
steadiness  and  precision.     But  the  enemy,  with  a  far 
greater  superiority  of  aim  than  the  modern   Boer 
has  over  the  modern   redcoat,  and  with  a  bright- 
coloured  exposed  target  such  as  was  rarely  offered 
to  him  in  forest  warfare,  was  already  playing  deadly 
havoc.      The    British  bullets  did   little  more  than 
sliver  the  bark  from  trees   and    cut    the    saplings. 
Gage's  two  guns,  however,  were  brought  into  action, 
and  fired  three  volleys  of  grape  and  canister,  which 
seem    to    have   accounted    for  much  of  the  slight 
mortality    which    the    enemy    experienced    on  this 
fatal  day.     Indeed,  if  the  British,  enveloped  in  that 
thickening  canopy  of  smoke  and  leaves  and  already 
shaken  by  such  a  hail  of  lead  from  almost  unseen 
foes,  had  only  known  it,  the  moment  was  a  critical 
one    for    the    enemy.       De    Beaujeu,    their   leader, 
whose  waving  hat  had  been  the  sign  of  battle,  was 
lying  dead  in  the  bushes.     Dumas,  who  succeeded  to 
the  command,  has  told  us  how  his  hundred  and  fifty 
Canadians,  headed  by  their  two  young  officers,  had 
fled  shamefully  at  the  first  discharge  of  g^ape,  crying 
"  sauve  qui  peut, "  how  the  main  body   of  the  British 
infantry    were   coming    up  behind  the  smoke   with 
loud  shouts  of  "  God  save  the  King ! "  and  how  the  six 
hundred    Indians,    flinching  as  ever  from  artillery, 
were    leaving    their    cover    and    showing    signs    of 
abandoning    the    field    to    himself  and    his  officers 
and  the  seventy  French  regulars  who  held  their  ground. 
With  infinite  presence  of  mind  and  a  gallantry  that 
Dumas    himself    somewhat    modestly  attributes   to 
despair,  he  and  his  lieutenants,   conspicuously    as- 
sisted by   a    famous    half-breed   leader,    Langlade, 

97  H 


BATTLE  OF  THE  MONONGAHELA  [1755 


ft' 


it 


M 

I 


rallied  the  Indians,  and  held  them  to  the  field  for 
the  few  minutes  that  were  required  to  show  them 
what  an  easy  job  was  theirs.  Under  cover  of  the 
smoke  and  brush,  and  aided  by  their  knowledge  of 
the  ground  and  of  the  science  of  backwoods  warfare, 
they  threw  out  a  long  line  of  hidden  skirmishers 
upon  both  flanks  of  the  British.  From  this  time 
forward  the  battle  was  mere  sport  for  the  one  side 
and  deadly  slaughter  for  the  other.  Two  shallow 
ravines  greatly  favoured  the  tactics  of  the  enemy, 
while  a  low,  densely  wooded  hill  upon  the  British 
right  front  was  crowded  through  the  whole  fight 
with  howling  sharpshooters. 

Braddock,  when  the  firing  grew  hot  enough  to 
show  that  his  vanguard  was  seriously  engaged, 
pressed  rapidly  up  with  the  main  column,  leaving 
Sir  Peter  Halkett  with  400  men,  including  most 
of  the  provincials,  to  guard  the  baggage.  As  the 
supports  reached  Gage's  company,  the  latter  seem 
even  in  so  short  a  time  to  have  received  heavy 
punishment  and  fell  back  in  some  confusion  on 
the  new-comers,  shaking  their  steadiness  and  mix- 
ing the  men  of  the  two  regiments  together.  Never 
perhaps  was  a  battle  fought  more  difficult  in  one  sense 
and  in  another  more  painfully  simple  to  describe. 

The  doubtful  moment  with  the  Indians  seems  to 
have  passed  when  the  main  body  and  the  vanguard 
of  the  British  melted  into  one.  Henceforth  it  was  an 
almost  purely  Indian  fight  and  of  a  nature  more 
astoundingly  one-sided  than  had  ever  occurred  in 
the  annals  of  backwoods  warfare.  From  right  and 
left  and  front,  and  from  an  enemy  that  was  practi- 
cally invisible,  a  deadly  fire  that  scarcely  tested  the 
well-known  accuracy  of  the  men  behind  the  rifies 

98 


'■>¥: 


1765] 


A  SLAUGHTER  PEN 


was  poured  for  two  hours  into  bewildered,  huddling 
groups  of  redcoats.  It  was  a  butchery  rather  than 
a  battle.  Anglo-Saxon  writers  have  followed  one 
another  in  monotonous  abuse  of  these  two  hapless 
battalions.  The  French  victor,  Dumas,  is  more 
generous  when  he  tells  us  they  remained  to  be  shot 
at  for  two  hours  with  obstinate  firmness.  Brad- 
dock  was  a  helpless  amateur  at  such  work,  and 
his  men  still  more  so.  Hopelessly  disorganized,  they 
crowded  together  in  groups  firing  wildly  into  the 
trees  or  into  the  air,  or  sometimes  even  into  their 
own  comrades. 

Braddock  proved  himself  a  very  lion  in  combat, 
but  his  reckless  courage  was  of  no  avail.  His 
officers  exposed  their  lives  with  splendid  valour, 
but  the  sacrifice  was  useless.  To  fight  enemies 
they  could  not  see,  and  who  mowed  them  down 
like  corn,  was  something  terribly  novel  to  the  routine 
British  soldier  of  that  day,  brave  and  staunch  though 
he  was  amid  more  familiar  dangers.  In  vain  it  was 
endeavoured,  by  planting  the  regimental  standards 
in  the  ground,  to  disentangle  the  medley.  It  was 
in  vain  that  officer  after  officer  gathered  together 
small  groups  of  men  and  led  them  into  the  teeth 
of  the  storm.  They  were  picked  off  with  deadly 
accuracy,  and  their  followers,  bereft  of  leadership, 
thrown  back  upon  the  slaughter  pen.  Among 
others,  Burton,  whose  name  was  the  last  spoken  by 
Wolfe's  dying  lips  four  years  later  on  the  Plains 
of  Abraham,  led  a  hundred  men  against  the  fatal 
hill,  but  fell  wounded  in  the  attempt.  One  may  ask, 
perhaps,  whether  bayonet  charges,  however  well  de- 
livered, would  have  availed  much  against  so  widely 
scattered  and  so  nimble  a  foe  in  the  blind  depths  of 

99 


■>¥. 


■'   I 


n 


HALKETT  AND  THE  BEABGUABD     [1755 

the  forest.  Backwoods  warfare  against  the  most 
formidahle  savage  warrior  that  the  world  has  ever 
seen  was  an  art  in  itself  that  only  much  backwoods 
training  could  acquire.  The  Red  Indian  knew  no 
fear.  He  seldom  threw  his  life  away,  like  equally 
brave  white  men,  to  no  purpose,  as  war  with  him 
was  a  game  to  be  properly  played,  and  this  per- 
haps made  him  more  dangerous.  He  was  liable, 
too,  to  moods  and  tempers ;  but  when  he  made  war 
in  earnest  he  was  terrible,  and  was  always  at  least 
equal  to  the  same  number  of  picked  backwoodsmen 
in  a  stand-up  fight.  Braddock's  men  were  not 
picked  backwoodsmen,  and  war  on  the  Ohio  was 
very  different  from  war  in  Flanders.  On  this  dire 
occasion  the  only  savages  that  could  be  seen  were 
those  whose  lust  of  trophies  outdid  their  caution  and 
urged  them  to  rush  out  and  risk  the  random  fire 
while  tearing  the  scalp  from  the  bleeding  heads  of 
dead  or  wounded  soldiers. 

British  officers  as  well  as  colonials  who  were  there 
have  declared  that  no  pen  could  describe  the  scene. 
One  actor  in  it  wrote  tiiat  the  dreadful  clangour 
of  the  Indian  war-whoop  would  ring  in  his  ears 
till  his  dying  day.  One  can  imagine  the  pack- 
horses,  stung  to  madness  by  bullet-wounds  and 
fright,  stumbling  about  among  the  dead  and 
wounded,  adding  their  dying  shrieks  to  the  general 
uproar,  and  the  cattle,  smitten  by  the  fire  of  both 
sides,  rushing  terror-stricken  through  the  woods.  At 
the  tail  of  the  column  towards  the  ford  and  in  rear 
of  the  baggage  Halketu's  400  men,  pressed  by  the  ad- 
vanced points  of  the  Indian  flank  fire,  were  faring 
somewhat  better,  though  Sir  Peter  himself  was  killed, 
and  his  son,  while  trying  to  raise  him,  fell  dead  by  his 

100 


1755] 


BBADDOCE  FALLS 


side.  Most  of  the  hundred  or  so  Virginia  riflemen, 
ahout  whose  action  in  this  fight  a  good  deal  of  fable 
has  gathered,  were  here.  They  did  their  duty,  and 
bought  gallantly  behind  trees  according  to  back- 
woods custom.  But  the  contemporary  plan  of  the 
battle  shows  the  attack  on  the  rear  guard  to  have 
been  far  weaker  than  where  the  mass  of  the  de- 
moralized redcoats  drew  the  bulk  of  the  fire. 

The  pandemonium  had  lasted  over  two  hours. 
Only  the  wagoners  and  axemen  so  far  had  fled. 
Washington,  in  the  thick  of  the  fight,  had  nobly 
seconded  his  chiefs  endeavours.  He  was  still  unhurt, 
though  several  bullets  had  passed  through  his  clothes 
and  two  horses  had  been  killed  under  him.  Braddock, 
hoarse,  hot,  smoke-grimed,  and  stung  with  the  bitter- 
ness of  defeat,  at  last  gave  the  signal  for  retreat. 
He  was  riding  his  fifth  horse,  and  at  this  moment 
fell  from  it  with  a  ball  in  his  lungs.  Orme,  though 
himself  severely  wounded,  and  Captain  Stewart,  a 
Virginian,  ran  to  his  assistance.  He  begged  to  be 
left  to  die  where  he  was,  but  first  in  a  tumbril,  and 
then  on  a  led  horse,  he  was  forced  along  amid  the 
general  flight  that  had  now  commenced. 

Everything  was  abandoned  to  the  enemy — wagons, 
guns,  cattle,  horses,  baggage,  and  £25,000  in  specie, 
while  scores  of  helpless  wounded  were  left  victims  to 
the  tomahawk  and  scalping  knife.  The  long  strain 
once  loosened,  it  became  a  race  for  life  by  every 
man  who  could  drag  his  legs  behind  him.  Regulars 
and  provincials  splashed  in  panic  and  in  dire  con- 
fusion through  the  ford  they  had  crossed  in  such 
pomp  but  three  hours  before.  Arms  and  accoutre- 
ments were  flung  away  in  the  terror  with  which 
men  fled  from  those  ghastly  shambles.    A  few  Indians 

101 


A  HEADLONG  FLIGHT 


[1755 


i  i' 


foUowed  the  fugitives  into  the  water,  but  none 
crossed  it.  There  was  no  pursuit ;  with  such  a 
wealth  of  spoil  and  scalps  on  the  battlefield,  it  would 
not  have  been  Indian  tactics. 

Braddock,  though  suffering  from  a  mortal  wound, 
made  an  effort  with  his  surviving  officers  to  gather 
some  men  together  and  make  a  stand  beyond  the  first 
ford.  It  was  useless,  however,  and  they  soon  found 
themselves  alone.  Beyond  the  second  ford  another 
attempt  was  made  with  no  more  success.  From  here 
Washington,  Braddock's  only  uninjured  aide-de- 
camp, was  sent  forward  to  Dunbar's  camp,  over  sixty 
miles  away,  to  hurry  on  help  and  provisions  for 
the  wounded.  So  fast  did  the  foremost  fugitives 
travel  that  they  arrived  there  the  following  night, 
spreading  dismay  and  consternation  among  the  600 
men  in  camp,  great  numbers  of  whom  being  pro- 
vincials, deserted  and  went  home.  The  survivors 
of  the  tragedy  came  dropping  in  throughout  the 
next  two  days,  many  of  them  hatless,  coatless,  and 
without  arms.  Wagons,  medicines,  and  supplies 
were  sent  out  along  the  trail,  while  Braddock,  borne 
in  a  litter  by  two  men,  whom,  Orme  tells  us,  he  had 
to  bribe  with  a  guinea  and  a  bottle  of  wine,  lay 
silent  and  suffering. 

Even  the  dying  hours  of  the  gallant  bulldog  have 
been  made  the  theme  of  much  fanciful  dialogue  and 
garnished  with  fictitious  utterances  of  grief  at 
the  disaster,  and  remorse  for  his  supposed  obstinacy 
and  rashness.  That  he  twice  tried  to  arrest  the 
stampede,  and  then  took  measures  for  the  comfort 
of  the  wounded,  is  all  that  we  know  for  "pertain  of 
his  last  hours.  He  was  unconscious  at  Rockfort, 
where  it  was  decided  to  retire  to  Fort  Cumberland, 

102 


1755]    BBADDOCE  BURIED  IN  FOREST 


/ 


and  as  the  wagons  were  required  for  the  wounded, 
and  the  enemy  were  expected,  the  guns  and  stores 
that    could    not    be    moved    were    destroyed.     At 
the  Great  Meadows,  a  stage  beyond,  Braddock  died. 
He    was    buried   there  beneath    the    forest  leaves, 
Washington  reading  the    funeral    service   over    his 
grave,   while   wagons    were   rolled    over  the    fresh 
mould  lest  his  remains  should  be  found  and  dese- 
crated.    Twenty  years   later,   when  the  wilderness 
had  given  way  to  civilization,  his  bones,  recognised 
by  the  articles  buried  with  him,  were  accidentally 
unearthed  by  a  farmer's  spade,  and  found  a  strange 
and  discreditable  resting-place   in  a  glass  case  at  a 
local  museum. 

Braddock,  to  be  sure,  was  no  great  general.  He 
was  sent  to  carry  out  an  undertaking,  arduous  and 
unprecedented  in  British  experience,  and  did  his 
best  in  the  face  of  immense  difficulties,  human  and 
physical.  Both  he  and  his  people  had  perhaps 
grown  a  little  too  confident  after  crossing  the  second 
ford.  Till  then,  however,  he  was  entirely  successful, 
and  even  so  it  was  no  ambush  in  the  ordinary  sense 
of  the  term.  With  his  scouts  farther  forward  he 
would  have  had,  it  is  true,  a  little  more  notice  ;  but 
under  no  circumstances  were  his  regulars  qualified  to 
face  even  a  lesser  number  of  Indians  in  their  native 
woods,  while  there  were  not  200  provincial  com- 
batants on  the  field  of  battle,  and  many  of  these 
had  no  backwoods  experience  whatever. 

Out  of  89  officers,  63  were  killed  or  wounded.  Of 
about  1,300  rank  and  file,  actual  combatants,  not  500 
came  out  unscathed,  the  greater  number  of  the 
remainder  being  killed.  Many  were  carried  off  to 
torture  and  death  by  the  Indians,  who  are  variously 

103 


DUNBAR  IN  COMMAND 


[1755 


^! 


Hi 


m 


4 


•!^   ■■ 


i\ 


estimated  at  from  600  to  800.  The  French,  who 
stayed  with  or  near  them,  numbered  about  70, 
while  the  150  Canadians,  as  we  saw,  fled  early  in  the 
fight.  The  loss  of  the  enemy  in  killed  and  wounded 
was  under  fifty.  The  effect  of  this  battle,  which 
neither  before  nor  since  has  had  any  exact  parallel 
in  British  history,  was  prodigious.  Shame  and 
humiliation  was  felt  in  England,  unbounded  exul- 
tation in  France,  while  the  American  colonists* 
faith  in  the  invincibility  of  British  soldiers  was 
permanently  shaken. 

The  victorious  French  at  Fort  Duquesne  were 
scarcely  less  astonished  than  elated.  We  have  plenty 
of  written  evidence  how  precarious  they  considered 
their  position,  and  with  what  doubtful  hopes  of  suc- 
cess they  left  the  fort  on  the  morning  of  July  9th. 
The  blow  in  itself  was  bad  enough ;  but  Dunbar,  a 
most  indifferent  soldier,  and  excusably  regarded  at 
the  time  as  something  worse,  now  succeeded  to  the 
command  of  the  shattered  force,  and  behaved  as  if 
the  terror  of  the  tragedy  had  entered  into  the  very 
souls  of  himself  and  his  troops.  The  effect  of  it 
upon  the  Indians  was  this  time  not  merely  a  moral 
but  a  physical  one,  for  it  left  the  entire  frontier  of 
four  colonies  at  their  mercy.  Dunbar,  however,  was 
not  happy  till  he  reached  Philadelphia,  whence  he 
soon  afterwards  embarked  with  his  men  and  sailed 
away  for  the  north. 

There  was  now  a  tremendous  outcry  and  a  general 
panic.  The  Indians,  hounded  on  by  the  French,  and 
swarming  in  from  the  north  and  west,  frequently  led, 
too,  by  Canadian  partisans,  threw  themselves  upon 
the  almost  defenceless  frontier  of  Maryland,  Virginia, 
and  Pennsylvania,  and  rolled  it  back  amid  an  orgie 

104 


1765] 


INDIAN  MASSACRES 


of  blood  and  fire  and  tears;  while  Washington,  in 
command  of  1,000  ill-disciplined  and  badly-officered 
militiamen,  was  set  the  hopeless  task  of  defending  a 
line  nearly  400  miles  in  length. 

He  was  only  three-and-twenty,  but  was  regarded 
as  the  natural  protector  of  the  colonies  now 
threatened,  and  his  letters  from  the  western  settle- 
ments of  Virginia  throughout  this  autumn,  winter, 
and  spring  give  a  harrowing  picture  of  the  Indian 
terror  that  he  was  endeavouring  to  combat.  From 
the  thrifty  settlements  of  the  Scotch  Irishmen,  and 
the  more  adventurous  among  the  Germans  which 
were  thickly  sprinkled  along  the  eastern  troughs  of 
the  Alleghanies,  came  flying  in  crowds,  horse,  foot, 
and  wagons,  through  the  mountain  passes.  "They 
come  through  by  fifties  at  a  time,"  writes  Washing- 
ton, "  and  talk  of  surrendering  to  the  French  if  no 
help  comes  from  below."  Braddock's  road  from  the 
Ohio  he  speaks  of  as  being  beaten  hard  with  moccas- 
ined  feet,  as  if  an  army  had  been  over  it,  while  all  the 
Western  forests  were  alive  with  Indians.  In  Maryland, 
a  little  later,  he  counted  300  wagons  in  three  days 
hurrying  from  the  wasted  settlements.  From  North 
Carolina  to  Western  New  York  men  were  scalped 
and  murdered  by  hundreds,  and  women  and  children 
in  still  greater  numbers  either  treated  in  like  fashion 
or  driven  into  captivity  behind  the  Alleghanies.  The 
tears  and  supplications  of  the  refugees  were  a  daily 
torment  to  this  at  once  tender  and  brave-hearted 
young  leader  of  men,  who  chafed  at  the  impotence 
to  which  he  was  consigned  by  bad  and  inefficient 
soldiers,  worse  officers,  and  a  lack  of  everything  but 
scurrilous  abuse. 

Braddock  himself  probably  never  used  in  conversa- 

105 


t 


!)' 


u 


MIDDLE  COLONIES  PARALYSED    [1755 

tion  much  stronger  language  than  Washington  has 
left  in  writing  of  the  criminal  indifiPerence  at  this 
moment  of  his  fellow-colonists  who  pulled  the  wires 
or  held  the  purse-strings.  A  feeble  line  of  block- 
houses was  built  along  the  frontier  from  the  Hudson 
to  the  James,  but  the  young  Virginian  commander 
notes  with  fine  scorn  that  their  militia  garrisons 
take  good  care  to  stay  inside  them,  though  a  bold 
forward  policy  was  the  only  hope  of  successfully 
combating  invasion.  Landon  Carter,  head  of  the 
most  famous  and  wealthy  family  in  the  colony, 
is  equally  trenchant,  and  swears  that  if  there  was 
an  active  king  upon  the  throne  of  France  he  could 
conquer  the  whole  country  up  to  the  Atlantic  with 
ease.  The  Indian  terror  lasted  for  nearly  two  years, 
during  which  the  destruction  of  life  and  property  was 
awful,  and  the  accompanying  details  ghastly.  It  was 
complicated,  moreover,  in  the  south  by  a  continual 
dread  of  a  servile  rebellion.  In  Virginia  alone  were 
120,000  negroes  whose  minds  were  insidiously  poisoned 
with  the  notion  that  a  French  triumph  would  ensure 
their  freedom.  When  the  French  influence  was  dead, 
and  the  Western  Indians  in  after  years  were  left 
face  to  face  with  the  sons  and  grandsons,  and  even 
husbands  and  brothers,  of  the  victims  of  1755-56,  a 
deadly  reckoning  was  taken.  ^  As  the  Scotch-Irish 
vanguard  of  American  civilization  slowly  pushed 
their  way  across  the  Alleghanies  towards  the  fertile 
plains  of  Ohio,  Kentucky,  and  Tennessee,  it  would  be 
ill  guessing  how  much  of  fierce  revenge  for  some  un- 
f orgotten  tragedy  nerved  the  arms  of  the  sinewy  half- 
Puritan,  half -lawless  borderers  who  "  won  the  West." 

*  Mr.  Theodore  Roosevelt's  book  The  Winning  of  tht  West^  treats 
of  this  later  period  in  an  exhaustive  and  fascinating  manner. 

106 


1766]  iilFFECTS  OF  BRADDOCE'S  DEFEAT 


CHAPTER  IV 

BRADDOCK'S  crushing  defeat  near  Fort  Duquesne 
resounded  throughout  North  America  to  its 
uttermost  limits.  Nor  was  the  effect  produced  on  the 
Northern  colonies  by  any  means  only  a  moral  one. 
On  the  contrary,  it  contributed  very  materially  to 
the  failure  of  both  those  expeditions  to  the  north- 
ward which  were  designed  to  support  Braddock ; 
namely,  the  one  undertaken  by  Shirley  against 
Niagara,  and  the  other,  led  by  Johnson,  against 
Crown  Point,  on  Lake  Champlain.  In  the  first 
place,  the  news  of  the  catastrophe  on  the  Monon- 
gahela  arrived  in  the  north  before  either  corps  was 
ready  to  deliver  its  attack,  and  greatly  disheartened 
the  militia  who  composed  them ;  and  secondly, 
the  capture  of  Braddock's  papers  revealed  to  the 
French  the  secret  plans  of  their  enemies,  and  enabled 
them  to  take  measures  for  their  frustration. 

Shirley,  the  spirited  Governor  of  Massachusetts, 
though  but  an  amateur  soldier,  had  been  com- 
missioned a  general,  greatly  to  his  delight,  and  was 
now  by  Braddock's  death  Commander-in-Chief  in 
North  America.  The  Marquis  de  Vaudreuil,  the  new 
Governor  of  Canada,  had  in  the  meantime  arrived 
from  France,  with  3,000  regulars,  including  the 
raiments  of  Bearne,  La  Reine,  Guienne,  and 
Languedoc,  who  were  to  earn  much  well-deserved 

107 


'••*%-«»ik^**»*^^  ' 


* 


'.' 


f  ** 


•< 


THE  MARQUIS  DE  YAUDBEUIL    [1755 

renown  in  the  coming  war.  Of  Vaudreuil  we  shall 
hear  a  good  deal,  seeing  that  he  remained  in 
office  till  the  closing  scene,  and  signed  the  capitula- 
tion of  the  colony  to  Great  Britain.  It  will  he 
enough  for  the  present  to  say  that  he  was  fifty- 
seven  years  of  age,  the  son  of  a  former  governor, 
and  in  consequence  a  Canadian  by  birth — a  fact 
which  gave  him  a  strong  colonial  bias  in  all  matters 
of  jealous  contention,  and  they  were  many, 
between  the  sons  of  old  and  new  France.  For 
the  rest  he  was  e  man  of  second-rate  ability 
and  of  no  military  cap.^city,  though  he  aspired  to 
much.  He  was  of  a  jealous,  vain,  and  somewhat 
petty  nature,  but  patriotic  and  hardworking  to  a 
fault,  and  had  previously  been  Governor  of  Louisiana. 
The  commander  of  the  forces  was  Dieskau,  a 
German  baron,  who  had  long  served  in  the  French 
service,  a  good,  sound,  capable  soldier,  but  of  no 
striking  talent,  and  his  career  in  America  was 
destined  to  be  brief. 

Of  the  subsidiary  expeditions  of  the  British  in  this 
year,  1755,  I  shall  not  speak  at  such  length  as  the 
schemes  involved  and  the  number  of  troops  collected 
for  them  might  seem  to  warrant.  Partly  from  the 
inexperience  of  all  concerned,  and  partly  from  th^ir 
premature  discovery  by  the  French,  both  undertak- 
ings were  practically  fruitless.  I  purpose,  moreover, 
having  in  view  the  limits  of  this  little  book,  to  dweU 
chiefly  on  the  more  luminous  and  decisive  conflicts 
of  the  war,  and  not  to  attempt  the  elaboration  of 
fruitless  campaigns  that  would  weary  the  reader 
with  an  unavoidable  monotony  of  detail,  though 
some  brief  notice  of  them  is  essential  to  the  story. 

Shirley's  thwarted  undertaking    against  Niagara 

108 


I 


)REUIL    [1766 

audreuil  we  shall 
he    remained    in 
»ed  the  capitula- 
lin.      It  will  be 
it  he  was  flfty- 
)mier  governor, 
y  birth— a  fact 
as  in  all  matters 
'     were     many, 
'    France.      For 
nd-rate    ability 
he  aspired  to 
and  somewhat 
iworking  to  a 
)r  of  Louisiana, 
as   Dieskau,    a 
in  the  French 
er,  but  of  no 
America   was 

British  in  this 
length  as  the 
oops  collected 
^tly  from  the 
ly  from  their 
th  undertak- 
se,  moreover, 
ook,  to  dwei; 
Jive  conflicts 
aboration  of 
the  reader 
tail,   though 
o  the  story, 
let  Niagara 


\  * 


f< 


Map  Showing 
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I 


1755]    THE  TWO  ROUTES  TO  CANADA 

had  gone  by  way  of  the  more  westerly  of  the  two 
great  routes  which  led  to  Canada.  Both  of  these 
started  from  Albany,  on  the  Hudson  River.  This 
frontier  town  may  be  described  as  lying  in  the  apex 
of  a  right-angled  triangle,  one  side  of  which  ran 
due  north  to  the  St.  Lawrence  and  the  heart  of 
Canada,  while  the  other  ran  nearly  due  west  to  Lake 
Ontario,  tapping  French  territory  behind  its  civiliza- 
tion, but  in  the  path  of  its  chief  trading  highway  to 
the  West.  The  base  of  this  triangle  is  roughly 
represented  by  the  course  of  the  St.  Lawrence. 
Both  these  routes  —  the  northern  some  two 
hundred  miles  in  length,  the  western  somewhat 
less — ^lay  through  a  rugged,  forest-clad,  and  almost 
unpeopled  wilderness.  They  were,  in  fact,  natural 
arteries  formed  by  lakes  and  streams,  with  only  a 
narrow  watershed  here  and  there  to  break  their 
continuity.  There  were  numerous  rapids,  too,  and 
shallows  to  be  portaged;^  but,  in  the  backwoods 
sense,  they  were  navigable  routes.  With  all  their 
obstacles,  which  at  this  early  stage  were  many  and 
great,  they  were,  nevertheless,  the  only  possible 
channels  by  which  French  or  English  armies  could 
conduct  serious  operations  against  each  other. 

Between  Canada  and  the  frontier  settlements  of 
New  York  and  New  England  there  were  innumer- 
able "trails,"  quite  adequate  for  war  bands  of 
rangers  or  Indians ;  but  for  the  proper  understand- 
ing of  the  situation  in  North  America  throughout 
this  whole  period  the  reader  cannot  keep  too  clearly 
before  his  eyes  these  two  great  military  waterways : 

*  "Portage"  a  convenient  colloquialism  still  universally 
used,  either  as  a  noun  or  verb,  both  in  English  and  French 
Canada. 

109 


■^i' 


kf- . 


h  M 


I-';'.-'.     !     ' 


fe.  Ill: 


OSWEGO 


[1765 


the  one  running  north,  the  other  west,  with  the  old 
Dutch  frontier  town  of  Albany  standing  in  the  angle 
— the  base  of  supply  for  both. 

The  extremity  of  the  western  route  was  Oswego, 
where  the  flourishing  town  of  that  name  now  looks 
out  upon  Lake  Ontario.  In  those  days  it  was  a 
remote  trading  station,  rudely  fortified,  and  occupied 
for  the  past  thirty  years  by  the  British,  to  the  constant 
vexation  of  their  rivals,  who  regarded  the  western 
lakes  as  wholly  within  their  sphere.  The  way  to 
r#  Oswego  led  up  the  Mohawk  River,  which  joined  the 

Hudson  near  Albany,  and  for  hatteaiLX  and  canoes  was 
more  or  less  navigable  to  the  headwaters,  whence  a 
four-mile  portage  over  the  watershed  led  to  Lake 
Oneida.     From  this  beautiful  sheet  of    water  the 
Oswego  River  rolled  down  to  Lake  Ontario.     Shirley 
now    really    opened   this   route  for   the   first   time. 
At    the    head    of    1,500    men,    collected,    supplied, 
and   organized   with   difficulty,   he   pushed   his  slow 
way   to   Oswego,   which  was    tc    be    his    base    for 
an    attack    upon    Niagara,    the     most    important 
station   the  French   held    in   the  West.     His  force 
consisted  of  two  battalions   of  raw  recruits  raised 
in    the   colonies,    but    paid    by    the    Crown,   after- 
wards the  50th  and  51st  regiments  of  the  line,  and 
some  artillery.     The  delays  for  obvious  reasons  had 
exceeded  all  calculation,  and  it  was  late  in  August 
before  Shirley  was  ready  to  leave  Oswego.     But  he 
then  found  that  the  French,  having  got  warning  of 
the  British  plans  from  Braddock's   captured  corre- 
spondence,  had   thrown   large    reinforcements    into 
Fort    Frontenac,   which   confronted  ihim    not    fifty 
miles  away  upon  the   northern  shore   of   the   lake. 
Frontenac  was  a    fortified   trading    post  of    much 

110 


1  • 


1755]    JOHNSON  OF  "MOUNT  JOHNSON'* 


he 

of 

:re- 

ito 

[fty 

Ike. 

ich 


the  same  type  as  Oswego  and  the  original  of  the 
old  and  important  Ontario  town  of  Kingston. 
Shirley  dared  not  now  move.  To  have  abandoned 
Oswego  for  an  attack  on  Niagara  would  have  left 
the  former  at  the  mercy  of  thirteen  hundred  efficient 
and  well-provided  French  soldiers,  who  had  gathered 
at  Fort  Frontenac.  So  there  was  nothing  for  it  but 
to  work  out  the  rest  of  the  season  upon  the  poor 
fortifications  of  his  present  position,  and  as  the 
winter  approached  to  return  to  Albany.  Seven 
hundred  men  were  left  at  Oswego  as  a  garrison 
under  Colonel  Mercer,  of  whose  fate  we  shall 
hear  later,  and  in  the  meantime  a  little  more 
space  must  be  given  to  Johnson's  operations  against 
Lake  Champlain,  though  they  were  equally  futile. 
Just  a  word,  however,  must  be  said  of  the  man  himself, 
since  he  was  a  famous  character  in  his  day  and  played 
a  unique  and  somewhat  romantic  part.  He  was 
now  about  forty  years  old,  was  a  native  of  County 
Meath,  and  acted  as  agent  for  his  uncle.  Sir  Peter 
Warren,  who  had  made  a  speculative  purchase  of 
an  immense  tract  of  wild  forest  land  in  the  Mohawk 
Valley.  Here  Johnson  dwelt  in  a  large  rambling 
mansion  among  the  woods  known  as  Mount  John^icn, 
with  an  Indian  wife,  the  sister  of  a  famous  chief. 
He  acquired  an  extraordinary  ascendancy  over  the 
Indians,  here  represented  by  the  warlike  Six  Nations, 
the  scourge  alike  in  former  days  both  of  French  and 
English,  but  now  this  long  time,  as  we  have  said, 
allies  of  the  latter,  though  strictly  passive  ones  and 
much  shaken  by  the  growing  prestige  of  France. 
He  spoke  the  Mohawk  language  and  entertained 
their  people  in  lavish  fashion.  **  This  singular 
man,"    says    Mrs.    Grant,    of    Laggan,    who    was 

111 


fP' 


I 


m^' 


!■'« 


k' 


t\ 


JOHNSON APPOINTEDTO  A  COMMAND  [1755 

brought  up  at  Albany,  and  remembered  him,  "  lived 
like  a  little  sovereign,  kept  an  excellent  table 
for  strangers  and  officers,  and  by  confiding  entirely 
in  the  Indians  and  treating  them  with  unvaried 
truth  and  justice,  taught  them  to  repose  entire  con- 
fidence in  him." 

The  Albany  traders  who  formerly  represented  the 
colonies  in  all  official  dealings  with  the  Indians,  had 
by  bad  faith  brought  them  to  the  verge  of  a  rupture. 
The  latter  hailed  with  delight  the  appointment  of 
their  favourite  as  Indian  Commissioner,  and  Johnson 
himself,  thoroughly  appreciating  the  grievances 
which  had  almost  driven  them  into  the  arms  of  the 
French,  soon  had  them  under  a  control  that  re- 
mair^  eJ  •  ^aken  throughout  the  war.  He  was  a  ver- 
satile !:  of  jenius,  a  big,  breezy  man  abounding  in 
energy  and  common-sense.  He  could  hold  his  own 
in  a  gr  '  V?  council  of  colonial  Governors,  or,  if  need 
be,  couid  Oi 'nk  ;  <d  shout  and  paint  his  face  and 
dance  the  war-da^.ce  with  the  wildest  of  Mohawk 
warriors. 

In  the  dearth  of  skilled  commanders,  Johnson,  who, 
with  all  his  ready  capacity,  had  no  military  experience 
whatever,  was  now  made  a  general,  and  given  the 
command  of  6,000  provincial  troops.  His  instructions 
were  to  drive  the  French  from  Lake  Champlain,  and 
to  occupy  Crown  Point,  a  promontory  of  strategic 
importance  on  its  south-western  shore.  As  a  pre- 
liminary to  the  campaign,  Johnson  collected  a 
thousand  of  the  Iroquois  warriors  at  his  manor, 
feasted  them  with  oxen  roasted  whole,  and  indulged 
them  with  an  orgie  of  eloquence  extending  over 
three  days,  at  the  end  of  which  period  he  flung 
down    the    war    belt.      So  honeycombed,  however, 

112 


h 


4 
% 


^       1755]    THE  NEW  ENGLAND  MILITIA 

had  even  the  Six  Nations  been  with  French  intrigue, 
that  only  a  third  of  Johnson's  guests  responded  to 
his  appeal.  The  rest  were  deterred  by  having 
relatives  employed  on  the  French  side. 

The  troops  for  the  Northern  expedition,  like  those 
of  Shirley's,  assembled  at  Albany.  Of  the  6,000 
voted,  4,500  came  from  the  ever-martial  colony  of 
Massachusetts.  These  raw  New  England  militiamen, 
whatever  their  spirit,  must  not  be  regarded  as  very 
formidable  troops.  They  were  mostly  recruits,  and 
all  amateurs  in  regular  warfare.  Nor  were  most  of 
them  efficient  in  a  system  of  their  own  like  the  South 
African  Boers.  A  few  only  were  experienced  bush 
fighters,  the  greater  part  being  hard-working  farmers, 
mechanics,  or  fishermen.  They  had  no  discipline  and 
only  a  few  had  uniforms.  Each  soldier  brought  a  gun 
with  him,  which  he  knew  how  to  use  with  ordinary 
skill,  also  a  tomahawk  to  serve  in  lieu  of  a  bayonet, 
at  close  quarters.  The  men  were  impatient  under 
control,  and  were  imbued  with  a  constant  longing 
for  home,  where  the  plough  stood  idle  in  the  furrow 
or  the  hammer  silent  in  the  forge.  They  had  no 
military  science,  no  elementary  knowledge  of  camp 
sanitation,  and  as  a  premium  on  indiscipline  they 
elected  their  own  officers,  who  with  rare  exceptions 
knew  little  more  than  the  men  they  commanded. 
The  French  Canadians  held  them  in  a  contempt  that 
was  exaggerated  by  the  vanity  of  their  race,  and 
moreover  hated  them  heartily  as  heretics.  But  with 
all  this  they  were  tough  and  hardy,  and,  one  need 
scarcely  say,  possessed  of  the  inherent  bravery  of  their 
stock.  From  their  ranks,  too,  could  always  be  gathered 
small  bands  of  men  who  combined  superior  marks- 
manship and  a  practised  knowledge  of  bush  fighting, 

113  I 


*it 


THE  CHAMPLAIN  ROUTE      [1755 


—of  la  petite  guerre^  as  the  French  term  went — ^with 
a  resolute  and  incomparable  daring  that  makes  some 
of  their  enterprises  throw  fiction  into  the  shade. 

Dieskau,  whose  first  intention  had  been  to  proceed 
up  the  St.  Lawrence  to  Lake  Ontario  and  seize 
Oswego  before  Shirley  could  entrench  himself  there, 
now  hurried  back,  and  ascending  the  Richelieu  River 
to  Lake  Champlain,  occupied  Crown  Point  with  a 
force  of  3,500  men,  of  whom  700  were  regulars,  1,600 
Canadians,  and  the  rest  Indians.  Johnson's  force 
at  Albany  was  far  short  of  the  estimates,  but 
it  was  not  lack  of  numbers  that  was  his  serious 
difficulty.  For  a  raw  general  with  a  raw  army  and 
a  wilderness  to  face,  unsustained  by  any  organiza- 
tion worth  mentioning,  the  difficulties  of  transport 
and  commissariat  were  immense.  His  route,  which 
became  from  this  time  forward  so  memorable  a  one, 
began  by  following  the  course  of  the  Hudson  due 
north  from  Albany  for  some  forty  miles.  This  much 
of  it  was  comparatively  simple,  being  by  water,  with 
but  few  portages.  Then,  however,  where  the  great 
river  turns  sharp  to  the  west,  the  line  of  march  left 
its  banks,  and  continuing  northward,  crossed  the 
twelve  miles  or  so  of  densely  timbered  upland  that 
separated  it  from  the  headwaters  of  Lake  George. 
Once  launched  upon  the  bosom  of  the  most  romantic 
sheet  of  water  in  North  America,  canoe  or  sloop 
might  float  cnward  towards  Canada  beneath  the 
mighty  shadows  of  the  Adirondack  Mountains,  with- 
out let  or  hindrance  but  a  gale  of  wind,  for  over 
thirty  miles.  At  the  foot  of  the  lake  a  river, 
broken  at  places  with  rapids  and  shallows,  pursued 
a  short  but  tortuous  course  till  Lake  Champlain 
opened  out  its  shining  bosom  and  presented  a  clear 

114 


// 


1755] 


JOHNSON  MARCHES 


sailing  stretch  of  some  sixty  miles.  Thence  from  its 
foot  the  Richelieu  or  Sorel  River  in  another  stage  of 
about  equal  distance  led  to  the  St.  Lawrence  and 
the  heart  of  Canada.  The  whole  of  this  natural 
route  is  so  curiously  direct  that  a  ruler  laid  due  north 
upon  the  map  from  Albany,  or  indeed  from  New 
York  to  Montreal  would  indicate  with  sufficient 
accuracy  this  famous  military  highway  of  bygone 
America. 

But  it  is  only  with  Lake  George, "  the  Silvery  Lake," 
the  "  Horican  "  of  the  Indians  and  Fenimore  Cooper, 
that  we  have  now  to  do,  and  even  in  such  case  only 
with  the  head  of  it.  Johnson  had  probably  no  more 
than  3,000  men  actually  with  him,  and  these  gave  his 
inexperienced  wits  enough  to  do  in  the  handling,  feed- 
ing, and  pushing  them  forward  through  so  rough  a 
country.  His  main  difficulties  of  course  began  when 
he  left  the  Hudson,  and  had  to  carry  cannon,  stores, 
and  boats  over  the  shaggy  ridges  which  led  towards 
Lake  George.  The  landing-place  at  once  became 
a  point  of  the  utmost  strategic  importance,  and  here 
the  general  left  Colonel  Lyman  with  500  men  to- 
build  a  fort,  named  at  first  after  that  doughty 
New  England  warrior  himself,  but  shortly  re-chris- 
tened by  the  loyal  Johnson  after  a  prince  of  the  blood, 
and  known  to  future  generations  as  Fort  Edward. 
Johnson  himself,  with  the  rest  of  his  rustic  army  and 
300  Mohawk  Indians,  cut  their  way  painfully  through 
the  woods  and  deposited  their  boats,  stores,  and  guns 
on  the  banks  of  the  uppermost  bay  of  Lake  George. 
Here  they  proceeded  to  throw  up  fresh  intrenchments, 
which  developed  later  into  Fort  William  Henry  of 
sinister  memory. 

Dieskau    in    the    meantime,    learning    from     his 

115 


MMMM 


,miKitm 


DIESKAU  ADVANCES 


[1755 


scouts  that  Johnson  was  fortifying  both  ends  of  the 
carrying  place,  laid  his  plans.  Crown  Point,  the 
fortified  post  on  a  promontory  of  Lake  Champlain 
which  he  occupied  with  his  army,  was  fifty  miles  to 
the  north.  It  had  worried  the  frontiers  of  the 
New  England  colonies  which  lay  to  the  east  of  it  for 
twenty  years,  and  was  Johnson's  point  of  attack,  as 
already  indicated.  Dieskau,  however,  was  not  likely 
to  act  on  the  defensive  with  a  force  equal  in  numbers 
and  individually  superior.  Selecting  a  body,  there- 
fore, of  200  regulars,  680  Canadians,  and  600  Indians, 
he  served  them  with  rations  for  ten  days,  and  led 
them  rapidly  forward  to  meet  Johnson.  A  glance 
at  the  map  will  show  how  Lake  Champlain  throws 
out  a  long  narrow  tail  southward,  known  as  Wood 
Creek,  and  running  parallel  with  Lake  George  for  almost 
its  entire  length.  It  was  up  this  waterway  in  canoes 
and  boats  that  Dieskau  led  his  force.  Landing  near 
its  head,  they  proceeded  to  march  through  the  woods 
till  they  struck,  about  at  its  centre,  Johnson's  new 
road  from  the  Hudson  to  the  lake,  where  they  in- 
tercepted British  messengers  and  learned  the  state 
of  affairs.  It  was  now  a  question  of  which  encamp- 
ment they  should  attack.  Being  informed,  though 
falsely,  that  there  were  no  cannon  at  the  lake  fort,  they 
decided  for  this  reason  on  attacking  it.  Johnson,  in 
the  meantime,  had  heard  of  the  French  movements,  and 
despatched  a  thousand  men  under  Colonel  Williams 
into  the  woods  to  find  and  oppose  them.  Hendricks, 
a  famous  Mohawk  chief  with  Johnson,  protested  at 
the  inadequate  size  of  the  force — "  too  few,"  he  said, 
"  to  be  successful,  and  too  many  to  be  killed."  He 
nevertheless  consented  to  face  the  dangers  his  British 
allies  were   so   rashly    courting,    with    200    of    his 

116 


i\ 


\ 


1765] 


AN  AMBUSCADE 


warriors.  Too  old  and  too  fat  to  walk,  the 
brave  Indian  rode  with  the  rest,  mounted  on  a 
pony,  and  was  one  of  the  first  to  fall.  Williams, 
"colonial"  though  he  was,  seems  to  have  marched 
his  force  through  that  blind  and  tangled  country 
with  a  contempt  for  ordinary  precautions,  such 
as  the  much-abused  Braddock  never  dreamt  of. 
Dieskau,  on  the  other  hand,  feeling  the  way  care- 
fully with  his  scouts,  had  ample  warning  of  the 
British  approach,  and  received  them  in  a  well-laid 
ambush  with  a  success  that  was  only  saved  from 
being  complete  by  some  of  his  Indians  opening  fire 
a  little  prematurely.  It  is  said  that  they  saw  some 
of  their  Mohawk  relatives  in  the  van  of  the  ad- 
vancing British,  and  took  this  method  of  warn- 
ing them.  However  that  may  be,  the  New 
England  soldiers  were  taken  even  more  by  surprise 
than  Braddock  s  vanguard,  and  like  them,  though 
still  more  rapidly,  the  front  ranks  were  driven  back 
in  confusion  upon  their  supports  by  a  withering  fire 
from  an  almost  invisible  enemy.  In  Dieskau's  own 
words,  "  the  column  was  crumpled  up  like  a  pack  of 
cards."  They  did  not  remain  huddled  helplessly  to- 
gether to  be  shot  at  as  did  Braddock's  men,  but  after 
a  sharp  brief  struggle,  in  which  Williams  and  Hen- 
dricks both  fell,  they  turned  and  ran  for  the  fort, 
the  French  and  Indians  hotly  pursuing.  But  John- 
son, hearing  the  sound  of  battle  drifting  rapidly  his 
way,  sent  out  300  men  to  stem  what  was  evidently  a 
hot  retreat.  This  they  accomplished  with  sufficient 
success  for  the  British  to  bring  in  their  wounded. 
There  was  but  just  time  to  raise  hasty  barricades  of 
inverted  batteaux  and  trunks  of  trees.  The  forest  un- 
fortunately still  grew  close  to  the  lines  of  the  embryo 

117 


\ 


/ 


THE  FRENCH  REPULSED       [1755 

fort,  and  there  was  now  no  chance  to  do  any  clearing. 
Could  Dieskau  have  pressed  on  at  once,  his  men 
would  have  carried  the  camp.  But  neither  Indians 
nor  Canadians  were  fond  of  storming  positions,  and, 
like  the  Boers  of  to-day,  threw  themselves  into  cover 
at  once,  though  in  their  case  trees  took  the  place  of 
rocks.  The  white-coated  French  infantry,  however, 
went  bravely  on  till  the  unexpected  fire  of  artiller'^ 
well  served  by  Captain  Eyre,  irove  them  also  in 
the  shelter  of  the  woods.  A  hot  musketry  engage- 
ment now  ensued.  Johnson's  militiamen  recovered 
from  their  panic,  and,  partially  protected  by  rude 
breastworks,  fought  well  and  stoutly.  In  time  the 
rifle  fire,  supported  by  the  artillery,  began  to  tell 
so  unmistakably  upon  the  enemy,  that  the  New 
England  men,  taking  heart  of  grace,  leaped  over 
their  barricades  and  swept  down  upon  the  foe  with 
tomahawks  and  clubbed  muskets,  driving  them 
ultimately  from  the  field.  Johnson  was  wounded  ; 
Dieskau  was  not  only  wounded,  but  captured,  and  e 
he  was  sitting  helplessly  against  a  tree,  with  th] 
bullets  already  in  his  legs,  a  soldier  seeing  him  levelleu 
his  piece,  and  in  spite  of  his  victim's  protests,  deliber- 
ately shot  him  through  both  thighs.  Fortunately  for 
the  credit  of  the  New  Englanders,  the  rascal  turned 
out  to  be  a  French  deserter.  The  unfortunate  general 
was  carried  to  Johnson's  tent,  who,  though  in  a  bad 
plight  himself,  behaved  with  a  generosity  that 
Dieskau  never  forgot. 

There  was  a  prodigious  clamour  among  Johnson's 
Indians  for  the  French  commander's  life  in  atonement 
for  that  of  their  chief  Hendricks,  who  had  been 
bayoneted  in  the  fight  of  the  morning.  It  was  all 
their    popular    and   powerful    leader    could    do    to 

118 


m 


^^  < 


1755  J 


DIESEAU  A  PRISONER 


save  his  wounded  prisoner  and  guest  from  their 
direful  clutches.  "  What  do  they  want  ? "  inquired 
Dieskau  of  Johnson,  with  a  natvet4  not  yet  rubhed 
off  by  North  American  warfare.  "Want,"  replied 
Johnson,  "  to  burn  you,  by  God  I  eat  you,  and  put 
you  in  their  pipes  and  smoke  you  ;  but,  never  fear,  you 
shall  be  safe  with  me,  else  they  shall  kill  us  both. " 
When  able  to  travel,  Dieskau  was  sent  with  a 
strong  armed  escort  to  the  Hudson,  and  in  due  course 
to  England  as  a  prisoner,  where  he  remained  till  the 
peace,  a  wreck  more  or  less  from  his  wounds,  but 
always  cheerful  and  full  of  gratitude  for  the  kindness 
shown  him  in  America.  He  died  in  1767. 

While  the  fight  around  the  crude  beginnings  of 
Fort  William  Henry  was  in  progress,  several 
hundred  of  Dieskau's  Indians  and  Canadians  had 
fallen  back  on  the  scene  of  their  morning's  victory, 
intent  on  the  scalps  and  plunder  that  in  the  hurry 
of  the  forward  movement  hey  had  been  compelled  to 
forego.  While  thus  engaged,  a  party  of  500  British 
from  the  new  fort  on  the  Hudson  caught  them 
unawares,  and  after  a  sharp  fight  utterly  routed 
them,  though  the  leader  of  the  victorious  party, 
Captain  M'Ginnis,  was  killed. 

This  repulse  of  the  French,  coming  so  soon  after 
the  terrible  disaster  at  Fort  Duquesne,  was  made  the 
most  of  both  in  the  colonies  and  in  Britain.  It  was 
forgotten  that  the  real  object  of  the  campaign  was 
to  seize  and  occupy  the  fortress  which  commanded 
Lake  Champlain  and  the  road  to  Canada  ;  whereas 
Johnson's  victory,  though  highly  creditable  to  a  militia 
who  had  never  been  under  fire,  merely  repulsed 
the  French  in  their  attack  on  British  territory.  The 
capture  of  their  general  beyond  a  doubt  gave  the 

119 


<m»/><Kiiiw m  II 


*«»=-*■**■■.-■*«*►  "•WBHiT.SiU  -iO--*  <*-  -M.M 


:.*'■'• 


1 


A  BACKWOODS  BARONET       [1755 

success  much  ^clat  At  any  rate  Johnson  was  made  a 
baronet,  presented  with  £5,000,  and  enjoyed  what- 
ever distinction  there  may  have  been  in  the  title 
of  "  Our  only  hero, "  bestowed  on  him  by  Horace 
Walpole.  The  loss  of  the  British  in  the  day's  fighting 
was  about  250,  of  whom  the  greater  part  were 
killed,  the  third  Massachusetts  regiment  alone  losing 
no  less  than  70  men,  including  the  colonel  and  eight 
officers.  The  French  loss  was  120  killed  and  123 
wounded. 

The  new  backwoods  baronet,  however,  was  regarded 
by  many  colonists  as  too  much  inclined  just  now  to 
rest  upon  his  laurels.  His  recent  success,  they 
thought,  might  well  have  justified  a  dash  forward  on 
Crown  Point,  and  Colonel  Lyman,  chief  of  the  New 
England  troops,  was  eager  for  it.  Johnson,  however, 
declared  that  his  men  were  not  fit  for  any  such 
adventure,  that  they  were  ill  clad,  discontented,  and 
shaken  in  morale  by  the  vigour  of  the  late  attack. 
Shirley  himself  urged  it,  but  Johnson's  honours  had 
created  a  quite  pardonable  jealousy  in  the  breast  of  that 
eager  though  unsuccessful  amateur.  Johnson,  more- 
over, was  wounded,  and  would  probably  have  had  to 
depute  the  command  to  his  rival  Lyman,  and  Sir 
William,  as  we  now  must  call  him,  like  Shirley,  was 
undoubtedly  very  human.  He  decided,  therefore,  to 
utilize  what  energies  his  men,  in  their  somewhat 
miserable  condition,  still  possessed,  in  building 
Fort  William  Henry.  When  the  close  of  November 
put  an  end  to  the  work,  three  thousand  men  in  a 
state  of  semi-mutiny  and  half  frozen  for  want  of 
warm  clothing  in  that  rigorous  northern  clime  turned 
their  backs  for  the  winter  on  the  leaflebs  snow- 
powdered  forests  and  ruffled  waters  of  Lake  George 

120 


A:, 


i  / 


i 


i 


f 


1755] 


IN  WINTER  QUARTERS 


and  scattered  each  man  to  his  shop  or  homestead  to 
tell  his  tale  of  war  and  hardship  and  glory. 

Seven  hundred  men  were  left  to  garrison  and 
strengthen  the  new  fort,  while  at  Ticonderoga  on 
Lake  Ghamplain,  forty  miles  to  the  north,  the  French 
were  equally  busy  with  axe  and  saw.  Here,  amid  the 
hush  of  the  Northern  winter,  amid  ice-bound  lakes 
and  mighty  mountains  wrapped  in  their  mantle  of 
snow,  we  will  leave  the  outposts  of  the  two  rival 
nations  to  face  each  other,  and  to  prepare  as  best 
they  may  for  coming  fights  that  were  to  prove 
bloodier  and  fiercer  than  any  yet  dreamt  of  either, 
by  the  Canadian  habitant  or  the  Massachusetts 
farmer. 

But  there  was  yet  a  fourth  enterprise  undertaken 
by  the  British  in  this  notable  year,  1755,  which, 
though  far  removed  from  the  scene  of  the  others,  and 
in  itself  neither  bloody  nor  glorious,  had  at  least  the 
merit  of  being  decisive. 

I  have  already  spoken  somewhat  fully  of  the 
troubles  with  the  Acadians,  and  made  brief  allusion 
to  the  crowning  scene  of  their  forcible  removal,  which 
occurred  this  year.  The  unquenchable  yearning  of 
the  French  to  recover  their  long-lost  province  was 
by  no  means  lessened  by  their  successes  elsewhere* 
The  strong  fort  of  Beaus^jour,  that  they  had  erected 
on  the  neck  of  the  isthmus,  in  doubtful  territory,  but 
commanding  the  most  troubled  part  of  the  English 
dominion  of  Nova  Scotia,  became  a  busy  scene  of 
intrigue  and  action.  Nearly  2,000  men,  French 
regulars  and  insurgent  or  outlawed  Acadians,  be- 
sides large  bands  of  Indians,  were  gathered  either 
inside  or  within  hail  of  it ;  while  at  the  far  end  of 
the  province  the  great  naval  and  military  post  of 

121 


^J 


ACADIAN  TROUBLES 


[1755 


1^1  !  :! 


Louisbourg  boded  mischief  no  less  dangerous.     The 
recent  English  settlement  of  Halifax,  now  the  capital 
of  the  province,  and  a  few  isolated  forts  containing 
each  their  handful  of  men,  represented  all  the  power 
available  for  resisting  a  French  attack,  and  protect- 
ing the  scanty  English   settlers  from  the   constant 
raiding  of  Acadians  and  Micmacs,  hounded   on  by 
blatant    priests    and     crafty    politicians.       Shirley, 
before     starting     on     his     luckless     expedition     to 
Niagara,    had    arranged     with     Colonel    Laurence, 
Governor  of  Nova  Scotia,  to  take  the  bull  by  the 
horns  and  sweep  Beaus^jour  and  its  whole  nest  of 
hornets  out  of  existence.     The  English  Government 
gave  their  assent,  but  Laurence   had  no   troops   to 
speak  of,  and  once  again  the  resourceful  colony  of 
Massachusetts  was  appealed  to,  and,  as  usual,  not  in 
vain.      Colonel    Monckton,    second    in   command   to 
Laurence,  and  whom  we   shall   meet  again  on  the 
Plains   of  Abiaham,    was    sent    to    Boston,   with    a 
commission  to    ra5se   two   regiments   of   1,000   men 
each.      The    recruiting    was    entrusted    to    Colonel 
Winslow,  a  provincial  officer  of  good  sense,  position, 
and  some  experience,  who  in  a  short  time  paraded 
2,000    hardy   rustics    before    the   admiring   eyes    of 
their  fellow-colonists  upon  the  wharfs  of  the  Puritan 
city.     The  muskets,  however,  which  were  due  from 
England,  were  much  less  punctual  than  the  men,  and 
it  was  near  the  end  of  May  before  the   transports 
cleared   Boston    Harbour,    amid    the    cheers    of    a 
populace   who    only    ten    years    previously    had    in 
the     same    hearty    fashion    sent    out     the    victors 
of  Louisbourg.      On    the    last    of    the    month    the 
fleet  was    forging   up  the   Bay  of   Fundy,   and    on 
the    1st    of    June,   to    the    dismay   of  the   French, 

122 


1 

'   '   n 

J 

'. 

1755]        NEW  ENGLAND  TROOPS 


a^' 


'^ 


dropped  anchor  off  the  mouth  of  the  Missaquash» 
which  divided  their  chief  stronghold  from  its  English 
rival,  Fort  Laurence. 

Beaus^jour  was  a  well  -  planned  fort  of  five 
bastions,  and  mounted  with  32  guns  and  mortars. 
The  nucleus  of  its  garrison  was  some  150  regulars 
of  the  colonial  marine,  commanded  by  De  Vergor, 
a  captain  in  the  same  corps — a  person  of  indifferent 
principles  and  no  compensating  capacity.  The 
fort  was  an  outpost  not  merely  of  French  strength* 
but  also  of  French  weakness  in  the  shape  of  financial 
corruption.  It  ranked  high  in  the  list  of  good  things 
doled  out  at  Quebec  to  those  who  by  personal  ser- 
vices— sometimes  creditable,  sometimes  unmention- 
able— to  the  governing  clique,  earned  their  due 
reward.  De  Vergor  seems  to  have  come  under  the 
latter  category.  None  the  less,  however,  did  the  all- 
powerful  Bigot,  Intendant  of  Canada,  at  once  his 
debtor  and  his  patron,  urge  him  in  a  delightfully 
candid  letter,  still  extant,  to  make  hay  while  the  sun 
shone,  and  out  of  his  plunder  purchase  an  estate  in 
France  near  him,  his  loving  correspondent.  The 
usual  method  of  enrichment  seems  to  have  been  the 
familiar  one  of  charging  the  King  of  France  for 
supplies  that  only  existed  on  paper,  and  selling  a 
considerable  portion  of  such  as  were  actually  for- 
warded for  free  distribution. 

De  Vergor,  however,  did  not  develop  into  a  pro- 
prietor of  French  vineyards  and  forests.  On  the 
contrary,  he  was  arraigned  for  misconduct  in  the 
affair  I  am  about  to  describe,  though  we  shall  find 
him  figuring  again  and  at  a  critical  moment  before 
Quebec,  with  scarcely  more  credit.  The  first  intima- 
tion  that  on  this   occasion  De   Vergor   had   of  an 

123 


)i 


lil 


p    I 


.'^i; 


THE  FALL  OF  BEAUSEJOUR    [1755 

impending  attack  was  the  appearance  of  an  English 
fleet  off  the  fort.  The  infamous  priest  Le  Loutre, 
spoken  of  in  a  former  chapter,  was  now  with  him, 
and  supplied  all  the  energy  that  De  Vergor  might  be 
lacking  in,  and  a  great  deal  to  spare.  Hundreds  of 
Acadians,  driven  from  their  homesteads  on  British 
soil  by  the  coercion  of  this  savage  fanatic  rather 
than  by  any  action  of  the  English,  were  now  wretched 
outcasts  dependent  on  the  none  too  liberal  charity 
of  the  fort,  and  from  their  very  despair  useful  tools 
for  French  aggression.  With  these  and  the  regular 
garrison,  and  as  many  more  from  the  settlements  on 
the  French  side,  some  1,200  men  were  n?ustered. 
Numbers  of  the  wretched  Acadians,  seeing  an  English 
victory  only  too  probable,  begged  De  Vergor  to  go 
through  the  form  of  forcing  them  by  threats  to  fight, 
so  that  they  might  excuse  themselves,  in  the  event 
of  defeat,  for  being  in  arms  against  their  lawful  king. 
De  Vergor  grimly  replied  that  he  would  not  only 
threaten  but  shoot  them  if  they  failed  him. 

The  New  England  troops  in  the  meantime  were 
landed,  and  in  conjunction  with  the  small  garrison 
of  regulars  from  Fort  Laurence  laid  formal  siege  to 
the  French  fortress,  approaching  it  by  parallels  and 
with  heavy  cannon.  They  were  attacked  by  Indians 
and  Acadians  from  without  the  fort,  and  much  less 
vigorously  by  the  garrison  from  within ;  but  Winslow 
and  his  sturdy  militiamen  pressed  the  siege  so 
strenuously  that  De  Vergor,  on  hearing  from  Louis- 
bourg  that  help  was  impossible,  surrendered  in  a 
fortnight.  The  capitulation  was  accompanied  with 
some  discreditable  scenes  of  drunkenness  and  stealthy 
pillage  on  the  part  of  the  French  ofi&cers,  and  much 
open    but    more    venial    plunder    on    that    of    the 

124 


%, 


^ 


!^ 


il 


'*% 


1756]    TEMPER  OF  THE  ACADIANS 

miserable  Acadians.  The  fort  waa  occupied  by 
Colonel  Scott,  of  the  second  Massachusetts  regiment 
with  500  of  his  men.  Winslow  with  another  body 
crossed  the  narrow  isthmus  to  the  north  shore,  and 
took  Fort  Gaspereau,  on  Bay  Verte,  without  opposi- 
tion. 

Nova  Scotia,  so  far  as  military  occupation  went, 
was  now  wholly  in  British  hands.  But  though  rid  of 
pressing  danger  from  French  forts  and  soldiers,  it 
remained  a  seething  hotbed  of  misery,  treachery, 
and  disorder.  Its  security  was  of  vital  importance 
to  the  British  at  this  most  crucial  moment.  For, 
similar  reasons  its  recovery  was  no  less  an  object 
with  the  French.  The  small  handful  of  British 
regulars,  with  the  raw  and  scant  militia  of  the 
infant  Halifax,  would  be  ridiculously  inadequate  as 
a  protecting  force ;  while  the  two  Massachusetts 
regiments,  in  accordance  with  custom  and  necessity, 
were  only  enlisted  for  a  season.  A  small  force 
of  French  invaders,  in  the  present  temper  of  the 
Acadians,  could  count  on  their  almost  unanimous 
assistance.  Hitherto  any  of  thuuo  latter  people 
who  had  abandoned  their  farms  could  return  and 
make  their  peace  without  difficulty.  Those  who 
had  remained  at  home  could  at  any  time  insure  the 
continued  favour  of  the  L:itish  Government  by 
taking  an  unqualified  oath  of  allegiance  to  King 
George,  who  had  treated  them  with  unbroken  in- 
dulgence, and  under  whose  rule  most  of  them  had 
been  actually  born.  Yet  never  had  these  strange 
people  been  more  generally  hostile  than  now,  and 
at  no  time,  thanks  to  magnified  reports  of  French 
successes,  had  they  been  so  insolent.  It  is  not 
surprising  that  the  patience  of  the  British  authori- 

125 


ff 


•«  * 


!( 


rt( 


mi 


AN  ULTIMATUM  DECIDED  ON    [1755 

ties  at  last  gave  out ;  and  Lawrence,  though  emi- 
nently a  just  man,  was  not  quite  so  soft-hearted  as 
some  of  his  predecessors.  If  the  Acadians  had  pro- 
fessed to  have  grievances,  if  they  had  even  invented 
some,  there  would  have  been  an  opening  at  least  for 
conciliation.  But  an  attitude  induced  partly  by 
superstitious  terror  and  partly  by  intimidation 
through  the  medium  of  Indians  and  outlaws,  and 
skilfully  seasoned  with  false  reports  of  French 
victories  and  conquests,  was  an  impossible  one.  The 
French  officials  in  Louisbourg  and  elsewhere  betray 
in  their  existing  letters  the  inward  shame  they 
felt  at  being  compelled  to  connive  at  this  heartless 
ruin  of  a  whole  population  of  ignorant  peasants. 
They  begged  each  other  not  to  let  the  English 
officials — with  whom,  as  the  farce  of  peace  still 
existed,  they  were  on  civil  terms — suspect  the  part 
they  were  playing.  But  the  limit  of  English 
forbearance  had  at  last  been  reached,  and  the 
Acadians  were  to  be  given  their  ultimatum. 

A  certain  number  of  exiles  had  petitioned  for 
reinstatement,  and  received  it  on  taking  the  full 
oath,  but  the  mass  yet  awaited  the  test.  Time 
pressed,  and  none  was  lost.  Shirley  amid  his 
own  troubles  on  the  far-off  Mohawk  was  as  strong 
as  Lawrence  for  an  ultimatum.  The  latter,  after 
submitting  the  matter  to  his  Council  at  Halifax, 
communicated  his  intentions  to  Monckton,  Winslow 
and  the  other  British  officers.  In  every  district 
it  was  then  proclaimed  that  an  unqualified  oath  of 
allegiance  would  be  required  from  every  inhabitant 
who  had  not  already  taken  it.  The  appeal  was  re- 
sponded to  by  deputations  from  the  several  districts, 
all  making  objections  to  the  terms  of  the  oath,  chief 

126 


m  *•♦  ^  * 


* 


^'•, 


;  I 


■.S», 


,f»i 


1755]    THE  ULTIMATUM  DELIVERED 

among  these  being  the  liability  to  bear  arms.  Others 
made  stipulations  that  the  priests  should  be  free 
from  all  supervision,  which,  bearing  in  mind  that  they 
were  the  political  firebrands  who  were  the  root  of 
the  country's  misery,  and  had  already  received  far  too 
much  indulgence,  was  somewhat  audacious ;  and  this 
more  particularly  since  a  Protestant  was  not  allowed 
even  to  exist  in  Canada,  fortunately  for  the  future 
of  Anglo-Saxon  supremacy  beyond  the  Atlantic.  No 
regret  was  expressed  by  the  Acadians  for  the  fashion 
in  which  they  had  repaid  near  forty  years  of  indulgent 
treatment ;  no  apology  offered  for  the  attacks  upon 
English  garrisons  in  conjunction  with  French  troops, 
nor  for  the  barbarous  raiding  and  murdering  of  British 
settlers.  Lawrence  went  so  far  as  to  promise  them 
that,  for  the  present  at  any  rate,  they  should  not  be 
liable  to  military  service.  It  was  in  vain  that  firmly 
and  kindly  he  reminded  them  of  the  consistent  in- 
dulgence shown  them  by  the  King  of  England,  and 
explained  how  impossible  it  was  that  he  should 
tolerate  such  a  grudging  return.  But  it  was  neither 
the  King  of  England,  nor  the  King  of  France,  nor 
any  question  of  race  or  patriotism,  that  these  in- 
fatuated people  had  in  their  minds,  but  the  fear  of 
eternal  damnation,  which  the  Bishop  of  Quebec, 
through  his  all  too  zealous  missioners,  had  struck 
deep  into  their  unsophisticated  souls,  and  the  dread 
of  Le  Loutre's  Micmac  Indians. 

"  Then,"  at  last  said  Lawrence,  "  you  are  no  longer 
subjects  of  the  King  of  England,  but  of  the  King  of 
France.  You  will  be  treated  as  such,  and  removed 
from  the  country."  At  this  they  were  staggered, 
and  most  of  them  relenting,  professed  a  willingness  to 
take  the  oath.  "  No,"  said  Lawrence ;  "  you  have  had 

127 


-*  w  #», 


li 


FINAL  MEASURES 


[1755 


I ' 


h   ' 


r*'        f  ' 


'S 


your  opportunity  and  rejected  it.  Such  an  oath  as 
you  would  now  take,  and  such  loyalty  as  mere  fear 
extorts  from  you,  is  worthless.  We  shall  now  have 
regard  solely  to  the  king's  interests,  and  the  con- 
sequences must  rest  on  your  own  heads."  I  have 
here  endeavoured  to  condense  what  extended  in  fact 
over  many  interviews,  much  tedious  going  to  and 
fro  of  deputations,  and  much  consultation  in  the 
Acadian  villages. 

It  was  the  middle  of  July  when  Lawrence  and 
Winslow  commenced  that  final  step  which  has  made 
such  a  harrowing  picture  for  the  somewhat  ill-in- 
structed sympathies  of  half  a  dozen  generations  of 
Britons  and  Americans.  The  troops  were  divided 
into  four  oi  five  bodies,  and  marched  through  the 
province  to  the  chief  centres  of  population,  which 
were  mostly  on  the  western  shore.  The  object  in  hand 
was  kept  a  dead  secret  from  all  but  the  leading  British 
officers.  Winslow  had  command  at  Grandpr^,  and  has 
kept  a  useful  journal  of  the  whole  business.  Septem- 
ber the  5th  was  the  day  decided  upon  for  action,  when 
the  officer  of  each  district  was  to  summon  all  its 
able-bodied  men  to  come  and  hear  the  intentions  of 
the  king  towards  them.  Accustomed  to  regard  the 
rare  bark  of  the  British  Government  as  infinitely 
worse  than  its  still  rarer  bite,  they  came  in  a  large 
proportion  of  their  strength,  and  without  a  thought 
of  the  trap  that  was  being  laid  for  them,  to  hear 
what  suggestions  that  benign  shadow,  the  King  of 
England,  had  to  make  for  their  future. 

The  parish  church  in  most  cases  was  the  appointed 
rendezvous,  and  there  the  king's  orders  were  read  aloud 
to  them  by  the  officer  in  command.  These  were  to  the 
effect  that  all   such  Acadians   as  had  not  already 

128 


1755]    CONSTERNATION  OF  ACADIANS 

taken  the  oath  were  to  he  shipped  out  of  the  country 
with  their  families ;  that  their  lands  and  stock, 
which  at  any  time  till  now  they  could  have  saved 
by  an  oath  of  allegiance  to  a  king  "  who  had  treated 
them  with  greater  indulgence  than  any  of  his  sub- 
jects in  any  part  of  his  dominions,"  were  forfeited  to 
the  Crown.  Their  money  only,  and  such  household 
goods  as  there  might  be  room  for  in  the  ships,  they 
were  to  be  allowed  to  take. 

The  wretched  Acadians  were  dumbf oundered  at  the 
nature  of  this  announcement.  Many  refused  to 
believe  it.  They  were,  however,  prisoners,  with  only 
too  much  time  before  them  for  the  terrible  truth  to 
sink  into  their  minds.  There  was  no  escape,  for 
outside  the  churches  stood  the  New  England  soldiery, 
in  their  blue  uniforms,  with  loaded  muskets.  The 
number  of  Acadians  secured  on  this  fifth  of  Septem- 
ber varied  in  the  several  districts.  Everywhere,  how- 
ever, it  was  supplemented  by  forays  of  the  British 
troops,  which  became  no  easy  matter  when  the  dire- 
ful news  spread  abroad.  The  transports  for  remov- 
ing the  emigrants  were  dilatory  in  their  arrivals. 
Winslow  and  his  brother  officers  chafed  at  the  delay, 
for  their  small  divided  force  was  none  too  strong,  and, 
moreover,  as  humane  men,  they  heartily  detested  the 
job.  No  hint,  however,  comes  down  from  any  of 
them  that,  under  the  circumstances,  there  was  any 
alternative,  which  is  significant.  There  seems,  in- 
deed, to  have  been  but  one  opinion  as  to  its  necessity. 
It  is  not  for  us  to  dwell  here  on  the  details  of  this 
melancholy  deportation.  All  the  women  and 
children  who  so  desired  could  go,  and  every  care 
was  made  to  keep  together  not  only  families,  but 
so     far    as    possible     neighbours.       Many    did    not 

129  K 


THE  DEPORTATION 


[1755 


I' 


*■■■ 


1* 


Mil 


'\  .' 


4 


»  »(' 


1^ 


believe  the  sentence  would  be  actually  carried  out 
till  the  first  detachments  were  marched  on  board 
ship  at  the  bayonet's  point.  The  whole  wretched 
business  occupied  over  two  months.  About  six 
thousand  in  all  were  deported,  while  more  than 
half  that  number  were  left  behind  in  Acadia,  to  say 
nothing  of  as  many  more  who  had  fled  into  French 
territory.  Some  of  these  became  practically  outlaws, 
and  harassed  the  British  till  the  close  of  the  war. 
But  their  sting  was  drawn  :  the  province  rapidly 
became  in  the  main  British  by  race  as  well  as  by 
territory,  hastened  to  this  end  by  the  fall  of  Louis- 
bourg,  of  which  we  shall  hear  anon. 

The  hapless  emigrants  were  distributed  throughout 
the  English  colonies.  That  people  so  profoundly 
ignorant  and  bigoted  as  the  Acadians  did  not  flourish 
when  pitchforked  thus  on  to  alien  soil,  is  not  sur- 
prising. Nor  is  it  more  so  by  the  same  token  that 
the  British  colonists  upon  whom  they  were  uncere- 
moniously precipitated,  showed  no  alacrity  to  receive 
them.^  Their  after  wanderings,  which  were  wide,  and 
subsequent  groupings,  are  of  interest  to  the  American 
ethnologist,  but  do  not  concern  us  here.  It  will  be 
sufficient  to  say  that,  of  all  the  communities  upon 
whom  they  were  cast,  the  uncompromising  heretics 
of  Massachusetts  exhibited  most  practical  charity, 
while  it  was  the  exiles  who  found  their  way  to  Quebec, 
to  their  co-religionists  and  their  own  countrymen, 
whose  tools  they  had  been,  that   fared  the  worst. 

*  In  South  Carolina,  as  elsewhere,  money  was  subscribed  for  their 
provision ;  and  many  of  the  exiles  were  bound  over  to  work  for  up- 
country  planters.  Several  outrages  were  attempted  or  committed 
by  them,  and  a  body  of  fifty  seized  a  sloop  and  put  to  sea  with  a 
view  to  returning  to  Acadia.  j 

130 


d^ 


1765]   EJOUSES  FOR  THE  BRITISH 

It  would  be  unprofitable  to  examine  here  to 
what  extent  this  radical  operation  was  justifiable. 
The  reader  must  pass  his  own  judgment  on  it. 
It  will  be  well,  however,  to  remember  that  the 
year  was  not  1900,  but  1755 ;  that  the  perpetrators 
of  it,  colonists  and  British  officials,  were  confronted 
with  what  proved  one  of  the  most  pregnant  struggles 
in  modem  history,  and  were  ill  equipped  for  it ;  that 
they  had  treated  these  people  with  a  consistent  in- 
dulgence that  had  then  no  parallel  under  such 
circumstances;  that  the  lives  and  fortunes  of  4,000 
peaceful  English  settlers  on  the  Halifax  side  of 
the  province  were  in  daily  jeopardy ;  and  lastly,  that 
a  considerable  number  of  the  exiles  themselves 
had  their  hands  red  with  the  blood  of  Englishmen, 
not  killed  in  fair  fight,  but  murdered  in  Indian 
fashion  while  peacefully  pursuing  their  daily  avo- 
cations on  British  soil. 

While  the  Northern  colonies  were  busy  spending 
blood  and  treasure  in  strenuous,  if  unavailing,  efforts 
to  beat  back  the  French,  the  people  of  the  middle 
and  Southern  provinces  were  in  a  helpless  condition, 
and  engaged  in  mutual  recriminations  of  the  bitterest 
kind. 

At  the  close  of  the  last  chapter  we  left  an  Indian 
war  raging  along  the  far-extended  and  defenceless 
frontier.  The  first  line  of  settlement  from  Pennsyl- 
vania to  the  Carolinas,  that  of  the  log  cabin  and  the 
raw  stump-strewn  clearing,  had  been  wiped  out. 
.  The  second  belt,  where  the  grandsons  of  its  pioneers 
were  living  in  comfortable  houses,  surrounded  by 
orchards,  meadows,  and  cornfields,  was  now  a  scene 
of  blood  and  terror,  and  ringing  with  the  unfamiliar 
sound  of   the  Indian  war-whoop.     The  third  line, 

131 


U 


I 


t' 


i 


«    I 


I 


I 


♦ll     i 


WASHINGTON  AND  VIRGINIANS    [1755 

that  of  those  old  settlements  remote  from  the  moun- 
tains, and  hugging  the  sea  or  the  tidal  rivers,  where 
wealth,  education,  and  political  power  centred, 
was,  in  the  meantime,  regarding  the  woes  of  its 
compatriots  with  a  philosophy  that  has  earned  the 
trenchant  criticism  of  the  historian,  and  caused  a 
world  of  anger  at  the  time. 

We  have  seen  how  Washington,  with  a  thousand 
raw  soldiers,  low-class  Southern  white  men,  to  whom 
authority  was  specially  odious,  was  struggling  in 
defence  of  a  frontier  nearly  four  hundred  miles  in 
length.  Virginia,  it  should  be  said,  was  notoriously 
touchy  on  the  subject  of  her  boundaries.  Her  white 
population  at  this  time  was  larger  than  that  of  the 
Transvaal  Boers  to-day,  who  have  placed  some  forty 
or  fifty  thousand  men  in  the  field.  It  was  three  times 
that  of  Natal,  who  has  sent  out  to  war  many  thousands 
of  her  best  sons  upon  no  greater  provocation.  Her 
frontier  counties  were  swimming  in  blood  and  ringing 
with  passionate  appeals  for  succour.  It  was  an  occa- 
sion, one  would  have  supposed,  when  the  sons  of  her 
numerous  aristocracy  and  still  more  numerous  yeo- 
manry would  have  responded  in  thousands  to  the 
call  of  their  own  harried  people  at  least,  if  not  to 
that  of  the  mother  country.  They  were  an  outdoor 
people,  bred  to  the  use  of  horse  and  gun,  and 
cherished  the  sort  of  pride  that,  without  the  martial 
ingredient,  seems  to  lack  significance.  The  exist- 
ence of  slavery  made  even  their  time  very  much 
their  own.  The  fear  of  a  slave  insurrection  might 
influence  the  numbers  available  for  distant  adven- 
ture ;  but  one  looks  in  vain  among  the  squir-  a  ' 
yeomanry  of  the  Southern  colonies  for  th*»  lintest 
spark,   at   this   burning  period,   of  tk       ^^irit   that 

132 


.^    t' 


[1755 

5  moun- 
I,  where 
centred, 
I  of  its 
ned  the 
aused  a 

housand 

0  whom 
'ling  in 
miles  in 
oriously 
er  white 
,t  of  the 
me  forty 
•ee  times 
lousands 
on.    Her 

1  ringing 
an  occa- 
is  of  her 
ous  yeo- 
3  to  the 
f  not  to 

outdoor 
^un,  and 
)  martial 
le  exist- 
ry  much 
)n  might 
t  adven- 


lir  ' 


u 


lintest 
irit   that 


1755]     ATTITUDE  OF  PENNSYLVANIA 

one  would  particularly  expect  in  such  a  class. 
The  natural  fire  of  youth  and  love  of  glory  and 
adventure,  to  say  nothing  of  patriotic  sentiment, 
that  was  so  conspicuously  present  with  after  genera- 
tions of  the  same  breed,  seems  in  this  one  to  have 
been  almost  an  unknown  quantity.  Considerably 
less  than  half  the  officers  who  commanded  the  few 
hundred  ill-paid  mercenaries  that  so  tr  L.;red 
Washington  belonged  to  the  gentry  class,  an  *  repre- 
sented their  total  contribution  to  the  defence  of 
their  province,  and  the  long  and  fierce  struggle  with 
France. 

A  mere  handful  of  Washington's  own  class  are 
grouped  round  his  youthful  and  commanding  figure 
in  this  war.  Whatever  may  have  been  the  virtues 
of  the  Southern  planter  of  this  generation — and  they 
were  not  inconsiderable — the  love  of  soldiering  and 
a  generous  public  spirit  were  assuredly  not  among 
them.  But  the  Virginia  legislature  at  least  voted 
money  for  raising  mercenaries,  and  professed  much 
good  intention  ;  while  that  of  Maryland  in  reluctant 
fashion  followed  suit.  Pennsylvania,  however,  as  a 
province  was  much  more  than  apathetic.  Her  west- 
em  counties  were  scourged  even  yet  more  cruelly 
than  those  of  her  Southern  neighbours,  and  the 
cry  from  the  scene  of  slaughter  grew  passionate 
and  fierce  towards  the  smug  burghers  of  Phila- 
delphia who  held  the  provincial  purse-strings.  There 
were  no  country  gentlemen  to  speak  of  in  Pennsyl- 
vania. Broadly  speaking,  the  main  element  of  the 
frontier  was  Scotch  Irish,  that  of  the  middle  counties 
German,  and  of  the  east,  with  the  preponderating  city 
of  Philadelphia,  Quaker.  The  latter  was  opposed  to 
war  of  any  sort  on  principle,  and  his  secure  position 

133 


I 


r 


f  t 


I 


^! 


r  t 


" 


(I 


■  I 


\  \ 


GERMAN  SETTLERS  ACTIVE    [1755 

made  his  conscience  and  his  comfort  run  pleasantly 
together.  The  Quakers  by  numbers  and  influence 
controlled  the  legislature,  and  to  the  tales  of 
blood  and  horror  that  came  pouring  in  from  the 
borders  they  replied  with  homilies  and  platitudes. 
Braddock's  defeat  was  a  judgment  for  having  inter- 
fered with  the  French  I  The  slaughter  of  Presby- 
terian families  upon  the  border,  who  were  replacing 
the  shaggy  forests  with  fields  of  wheat  and  corn,  was 
a  visitation  of  God  for  some  assumed  bad  faith  in 
former  days  with  the  Indians  !  For  in  the  eyes  of  a 
Philadelphia  Quaker  a  Presbyterian  could  do  no  right, 
while  a  red  man  could  scarcely  do  wrong.  To  have 
argued  the  question  with  such  a  naan  from  a 
logical  point  of  view  would  have  been  to  argue 
with  a  stick  or  a  stone.  He  was  snug  in  his  brick 
house  in  the  fattest  city  of  all  the  colonies,  and 
with  closed  eyes  and  deprecating,  uplifted  palms  at 
the  bare  suggestion  of  men  taking  arms  in  defence  of 
their  ^Ives  he  comes  down  to  us  a  pretty  figure  at  a 
time  when  strong  men  above  all  things  were  so 
sorely  needed.  He  had  his  uses  and  his  virtues,  but 
they  were  not  the  kind  requ'ied  at  the  present 
moment.  Some  interesting  actempts  have  been 
made  by  Philadelphia  writers  in  recent  years  to 
defend  the  action  of  their  Quaker  ancestors  in  this 
particular,  and  to  upset  the  verdict  of  history.  They 
do  not  strike  one  as  particularly  convincing,  while 
the  natural  partiality  that  inspires  them  is  obvious. 
The  German  had  hitherto  backed  the  Quaker 
interest  in  opposing  colonial  defence.  But  now  the 
tomahawk  had  reached  the  German  settlements,  and 
sentiments  that  wore  avowedly  selfish  swung  round 
in  an  instant  at  the  sight  of  German  scalps.     The 

134 


1755]  PENNSYLVANIA  AND  THE  PENN8 

Pennsylvanians  of  the  west,  regardless  now  of 
racial  cleavages,  vowed  that  if  money  and  arms 
and  men  were  not  voted,  they  would  march  on 
the  capital  and  bring  the  legislature  to  its  seraes 
by  fair  means  or  foul.  It  is  a  long  story,  but  the 
pressure  growing  irresistible  the  assembly  saw 
that  they  might  at  least  enjoy,  while  yielding,  the 
ever  -  welcome  luxury  of  quarrelling  with  their 
Governor,  who  was  of  course  a  nominee,  or  agent 
rather  of  tlie  Penn  family,  the  proprietors  of  the 
province,  and  at  the  same  time  thwarting  their 
persecutors  and  withholding  the  relief  demanded. 
So  having  voted  the  money,  they  made  the  vote  con- 
ditional on  a  taxation  of  the  Penn  estates.  This,  they 
well  knew,  the  Governor  had  no  power  to  grant,  and 
the  Penns  could  not  be  heard  from  under  three 
months.  In  the  meantime  the  bill  would  remain 
unsigned,  and  the  Government  be  placed  in  the 
position  of  an  obstructor.  It  sounds  plausible  enough 
that  the  Proprietors'  estates  should  be  taxed  like  the 
rest,  but  the  Penns'  lands  were  in  the  wilderness, 
they  brought  in  no  income,  and  had  been  made 
unsaleable  by  the  destruction  of  the  frontier  before 
them — a  state  of  matters  largely  induced  by  the 
apathy  of  the  legislature.  The  latter,  too,  had  stipu- 
lated that  these  lands  should  be  assessed  for  taxation 
by  their  own  officials.  The  Penns'  case  even  in  time 
of  peace  would  seem  a  strong  one  wher»  it  is  further 
considered  that  the  province  owed  its  very  existence 
to  their  father  ;  but  these  were  the  details  for  which 
the  colonial  legislatures  loved  to  struggle.  No 
other  body,  however,  but  that  of  Pennsylvania  would 
probably  have  weighed  such  a  trifle  against  the  lives 
and  safety  of  its  people.    The  Penns  in  the  meantime, 

135 


n 


PENNSYLVANIA  AND  THE  PENNS   [1755 

ignorant  of  the  deadlock,  had  sent  out  £5,000  as  a 
voluntary  contribution — an  amount  which,  judged  by 
the  standard  of  the  time  and  the  war-chest  of  the 
province,  could  give  the  greatest  cavillers  no  ground 
for  complaint.  In  course  of  time,  though  too  late  to 
save  hundreds  of  human  lives  and  an  infinity  of 
human  suffering,  ruin  and  loss.  Western  Pennsyl- 
vania got  relief,  but  its  trials  extended  far  into 
a  period  which  covered  coming  events  of  more 
immediate  import  here. 


m! 


i' 


136 


1755-6]    THE  WINTER  IN  CANADA 


CHAPTER  V 


IN  spite  of  hor  triumphs  both  in  attack  and  def ence» 
Canada  spent  but  a  miserable  winter.  The 
exigencies  of  war  had  sadly  interfered  with  the 
saving  of  what  at  the  best  would  have  been  but  an 
indifferent  harvest.  Something  like  a  famine  pre- 
vailed, and  the  bakers'  shops  were  besieged  by 
hungry  crowds.  English  cruisers  watched  the  mouth 
of  the  St.  Lawrence  with  exceeding  vigilance,  and 
France,  who  had  frequently  been  compelled  to  pro- 
vide with  bread  this  her  colony  of  agriculturists 
and  hunters  on  a  virgin  soil,  found  it  no  easy  matter 
to  come  this  winter  to  her  aid. 

It  was  in  such  emergencies  as  these,  however,  that 
the  official  clique,  who  kept  a  tight  grip  on  Canada, 
waxed  fat.  Bigot,  who  as  Intendant  had  the  handling 
of  finances  and  supplies,  was  a  very  prince  of  Cor- 
ruptionists,  though  possessing  some  good  qualities  and 
considerable  ability.  He  had,  moreover,  raised  from 
obscurity  and  gathered  around  him  a  gang  of 
underlings  who  had  even  less  breeding  and  fewer  good 
qualities  than  himself,  were  little  behind  him  in  wits, 
and  more  than  his  equal  in  unscrupulousness.  That 
strange  medley,  the  so-called  noblesse  of  Canada, 
were  very  easily  passed  in  the  race  for  power  by 
such  adventurers.  The  regimental  and  staff  officers 
from  France  represented  another  element  who  de- 

137 


, 


u 


l) 


I 


1 1 


'Jrij 


( 


X 


0 


i; 


ENGLISH  MINISTERS       [1755-6 

spised  both  classes,  but  in  such  banishment  were 
inclined  to  pocket  their  prejudices  and  take  such 
social  comfort  as  was  thrown  in  their  way.  Out 
of  this  mixed  material  a  queer  though  lively  society 
was  evolved  at  Quebec  and  Montreal.  In  spite  of 
French  military  aristocrats,  local  titles  of  nobility, 
and  a  haughty  Church,  official  society  seems  to 
have  been  far  more  Bohemian,  less  sociaUy  exclusive, 
and  much  more  scandalous  than  that  of  New  York, 
Boston,  or  Williamsburg.  But  if  Canada  was  short  in 
food  and  money,  the  new  commander-in-chief,  Mont- 
calm, who  now  arrived  with  two  fresh  battalion  3,  was  a 
host  in  himself,  and  had  a  staff  that  was  worthy  of 
him.  Let  us  now,  however,  turn  for  a  moment  to 
Europe,  and  see  how  the  nations  were  grouping 
themselves  for  the  fiercest  struggle  of  the  century, 
and  also  what  manner  of  men  were  those  who  at  this 
critical  moment  guided  the  destinies  of  England. 

These  last,  indeed,  were  but  an  indifferent  company, 
and  the  state  of  the  country  was  anything  but 
hopeful.  Pitt  was  still,  and  destined  to  be  for  some 
time  longer,  without  power.  The  dead  weight  of  the 
ridiculous  Newcastle,  that  "  hoary  jobber,"  clinging 
at  all  costs  to  office,  poisoned  the  springs  of  English 
action  in  every  field,  and  Pitt's  eloquence  found  con- 
genial and  temporary  employment  in  laying  bare 
with  withering  satire  the  Premier's  contemptible 
littleness.  Through  the  whole  of  this  winter  and 
spring  there  were  constant  alarms  of  a  French 
invasion.  "  I  want,"  said  Pitt,  in  a  flash  of  prophetic 
inspiration,  "  to  call  this  country  out  of  a  condition 
so  enervated  that  twenty  thousand  men  from  France 
can  shake  it."  But  for  the  present  he  had  to  possess 
his  soul  in  patience,  and  expend    his    eloquence    on 

138 


1755-6]        ENGLAND  AND  FRANCE 

the  ill  conduct  of  public  affairs.  The  fleet,  how- 
ever, was  numerous  and  well  manned,  though  be- 
wildered by  enigmatic  and  conflicting  orders,  which 
its  captains  interpreted  according  to  the  popular 
spirit  rather  than  dally  over  conundrums ;  seizing 
French  vessels,  that  is  to  say,  wherever  they  could 
find  them,  and  blockading  Canada  with  considerable 
success.  The  French,  whose  policy  was  changing, 
at  this  moment  of  all  others,  from  an  American 
one  of  great  conceptions  to  a  European  one  that 
offered  no  prospect  worth  mentioning,  were  in  no 
hurry  to  proclaim  war  with  England.  Her  Gov- 
ernment was  anxious  to  accept,  not  to  make,  a 
declaration  of  hostilities.  It  professed  horror  and 
amazement  at  the  depredations  of  British  ships  upon 
French  commerce,  and  by  way  of  emphasizing  these 
protests  released  with  much  ostentation  a  British 
vessel  that  had  been  brought  as  a  prize  into  a  French 
port. 

France  had,  in  fact,  been  turned  by  frivolous  coun- 
sellors from  her  lofty  transatlantic  dreams  to  a  mere 
conflict  of  passion  and  military  glory.  The  leading 
object  of  her  attack  was  now  to  be  Frederick  of 
Prussia,  against  whom  that  European  coalition  was 
forming  which  plunged  the  Continent  into  the  horrors 
of  the  Seven  Years'  War.  What  caused  Frederick, 
with  his  five  million  subjects,  his  small  and  compara- 
tively poor  realm,  and  above  all  his  formidable  army, 
to  be  the  object  of  such  widespread  enmity  is 
sufficiently  familiar.  He  had  insulted  two  potent 
ladies  of  indifferent  virtue,  and  robbed  a  third  who 
was  virtuous  but  justifiably  vengeful.  This  female 
trio  represented  France,  Russia,  and  Austria.  With 
respect  to  the  latter,  Maria  Theresa  had  a  legitimate 

139 


I 


l» 


H  t 


•n 


.  « 


r 


I, 


THE  EUROPEAN  ALLIANCE    [1755-6 

grievance  and  much  reason  in  her  wrath,  for  Fred- 
erick had  robbed  her  of  Silesia.  Catherine  of  Russia 
was  stung  to  fury  by  his  coarse  jests  at  her  somewhat 
notorious  weakness  for  Grenadiers.  As  for  Madame 
de  Pompadour,  she  had  not  only  been  the  subject  of 
the  Prussian  king's  continuous  raillery,  but  had  been 
treated  by  him  with  personal  contumely,  and  this 
lady  governed  both  her  royal  lover  and  France.  An 
alliance  between  these  three  great  powers  was  pre- 
paring throughout  the  winter  of  1755-56,  and  with  the 
addition  of  Sweden  and  Saxony,  was  cemented  before 
the  opening  of  summer,  constituting,  in  the  words  of 
Pitt,  "  the  most  powerful  and  malignant  confederacy 
that  ever  yet  has  threatened  the  independence  of 
mankind." 

But  France,  with  the  certainty  of  a  war  with 
England,  had  done  more  than  give  up  the  substance 
of  American  empire  for  the  shadow  of  European 
glory,  if  indeed  glory  there  could  be  in  a  coalition 
representing  ninety  million  souls  against  a  single 
province  representing  five.  For  she  was  exposing 
her  very  existence  in  the  New  World  to  the  gravest 
risk  of  complete  extinction.  To  the  French 
champions  of  the  Canadian  policy,  to  the  brave  men 
across  the  Atlantic  who  were  so  gallantly  inaugur- 
ating it,  and  who  divined,  or  thought  they  divined,  a 
dazzling  future,  this  turn  of  the  political  weather- 
cock must  have  been  bitter  indeed ;  and  the  more 
so,  seeing  the  comparative  weakness  which  dis- 
tinguished at  this  moment  their  great  rival.  That 
rival's  fleet  was  strong,  but  her  councils  and  her 
generals  appeared  to  be  contemptible,  and  her  army 
had  been  let  down  to  twenty  thousand  men.  Nor 
could  they,  nor  any  one,  know  that  England  was  in 

140 


ik 


'S'i 


1755-6]  LOST  OPPORTUNITIES  OF  FRANCE 

labour  of  a  leader  who  was  to  shake  the  world  to  its 
uttermost  limits. 

Let  us  suppose  there  had  been  no  Pompadour,  and 
that  a  wholesome  monarch,  such  as  indeed  was  Louis 
XV.  himself   in  earlier   life,  aided  by  clear-sighted 
ministers,  had  bben  ruling  France.     Can  there  be  a 
moment's  doubt  but  that  she  would  have  turned  to 
face  with  her  whole  strength  her  only  real  rival  ?    If 
then  she  had  lavished  one-half — nay,  one-quarter — 
of  the  blood  and  treasure  in  America  that  was  idly 
squandered  on  European  battlefields,  who  dare  say  in 
what  colours  the  map  of  North  America  would  now 
be  painted?    The  mastery  of  the  seas  it  is  possible 
no  effort  on  the  part  of  France  could  have  won,  but 
with  energy  she  could  certainly  have  become  strong 
enough  to  prevent  anything  like  an  effective  block- 
ade of  so  vast  a  line,  and  could  have  poured  troops 
and    supplies    into    Quebec,     Louisbourg,    or    New 
Orleans  in  sufficient  abundance  for  every  practical 
purpose.     Let  us  be  permitted,  too,  to   conceive  our 
neighbours  drawing  an  object-lesson  from  the  pros- 
perity of  the  British  colonies  which  stared  them  in 
the  face,  and  abandoning  that  religious  bigotry  which 
so  hampered  their  own  expansion.     Let  us  suppose 
that  France  had  chosen  to  do  what  some  of  her  best 
Catholic  soldiers  had  so  often  urged — ceased,  that  is 
to  say,  from  treating  her  Huguenots   as  ravening 
wolves,  and  hounding  them  from  all  her  borders  to 
become  a  strength  and  comfort  to  her   rivals,    and 
given  them  instead  the  toleration  under  their  own 
flag  that  they  had  to  seek  for  under  others.     Can 
there  be  any  doubt  that,  in  such  an  event,  thousands 
of  the  most  virile  people    in   France    would    have 
sought  the  shores    of   French  America,   and  would 

141 


THE  FREXCH  COURTIERS     [1755-6 


t 


4 


M 


1 

i 

i 

1 
1 1 

1 

I     • 


'    /. 


have  aided  and  secured  that  expansion  of  dominion 
which  was  the  one  worthy  dream  of  an  ignoble 
epoch  ?  A  wise  policy,  too,  could  have  beyond  a  doubt 
attracted  to  New  France,  and  most  certainly  to  an 
occupied  Ohio  Valley,  those  Catholics  of  other  nation- 
alities who,  while  they  found  bare  toleration  at  the 
best  in  the  British  colonies,  would  have  preferred 
a  regie  ii  where  their  creed  was  greeted  with  a 
warmer  welcome. 

But  these  are  idle,  if  interesting,  speculations. 
Destiny  decreed  otherwise,  and  it  is  not  for  Britons 
at  any  rate  to  quarrel  with  her  scheme.  France 
spurned  the  great  opportunity  of  her  national  life, 
and,  with  a  folly  that  to  us  now  seems  little  short  of 
madness,  lavished  her  resources  in  attempting  to  dis- 
member a  small  country  whose  defeat  would  merely 
serve  to  strengthen  her  already  powerful  allies. 

The  Pompadour,  however,  must  by  no  means  get 
the  whole  of  the  blame  ;  for  the  French  nohleaae^  who 
now  swarmed  like  locusts  about  the  Court  and  in 
the  army,  would  probably  have  shown  but  slight 
enthusiasm  for  the  rigours  and  inglorious  hardships 
of  an  American  campaign.  They  were  ready  at  all 
times  to  fight  and  to  die,  but  this  was  a  generation 
to  whom  fine  clothes,  fine  living,  and  an  artificial 
atmosphere  were  necessaries  second  only  to  their 
honour.  If  fight  they  must,  they  would  have  much 
preferred  to  die  gloriously  after  a  supper  of  cham- 
pagne and  trufiQes,  and  perhaps  under  the  very  eyes  of 
their  mistresses,  in  the  trenches  of  a  Flemish  town, 
rather  than  perish,  and  their  deeds  with  them,  in  the 
trackless  forests  of  America. 

So  Canada  was  from  henceforth  left  in  a  great 
measure  to  its  own  resources,  and  to  such  support 

142 


1755-6 


1756]    WAR  FORMALLY  DECLARED 


ominion 
ignoble 
a  doubt 
ly  to  an 
c  nation- 
al at  the 
►referred 
with  a 

;ulations. 
•  Britons 

France 
onal  life, 
short  of 
ig  to  dis- 
id  merely 
les. 

leans  get 
lessBt  who 
t  and  in 
>ut  slight 
hardships 
idy  at  all 
eneration 

artificial 

to  their 
ave  much 

of  cham- 
iry  eyes  of 
lish  town, 
jm,  in  the 

n  a  great 
support 


^ 


'■;5J 


as  had  been  already  sent  there.  The  general  war 
in  Europe  did  not  break  out  till  August,  but  in  the 
spring  France,  turning  from  all  thoughts  of  a  de- 
scent on  England,  made  a  swoop  upon  Minorca,  which 
for  forty  years  had  been  a  valued  possession  of  the 
British.  The  stubborn  defence  of  Blakeney  with 
under  3,000  men  against  an  immensely  superior  French 
force  is  not  so  familiar  as  the  failure  of  Admiral 
Byng  with  the  English  fleet  to  relieve  that  gallant 
officer,  and  the  story  of  his  subsequent  execution. 
The  merits  of  this  do  not  concern  us  here,  but 
after  such  glaring  hostilities,  not  in  the  backwoods 
of  America,  but  in  the  full  sight  of  Europe,  the  farce 
of  peace  could  no  longer  in  decency  be  maintained, 
and  war  was  formally  declared  against  France  upon 
May  the  eighteenth,  1756. 

With  all  her  ill-advised  change  of  policy,  France 
had  not  wholly  neglected  Canada.  She  had  sent 
there  one  of  her  very  best  soldiers,  who  was  to  cover 
himself  with  glory  before  he  perished  in  her  ruin. 
For  at  the  very  moment  when  England  declared  war, 
Montcalm,  with  1,200  men  of  the  admirable  regiments 
of  La  Sarre  and  Royal  Rousillon,  was  slowly  pushing 
his  way  up  towards  Quebec,  through  the  drifting  ice- 
floes of  the  St.  Lawrence. 

Louis  Joseph,  Marquis  de  Montcalm-Gozon  de 
Saint- V^ran,  was  a  native  of  the  South  of  France, 
and  proprietor  of  the  hereditary  but  much-en- 
cumbered estate  of  Candiac,  near  Nimes.  He  was 
now  in  his  forty-fifth  year.  He  had  seen  much  ser- 
vice on  European  fields,  had  been  twice  severely 
wounded,  and  had  distinguished  himself  much  of  tener. 
He  was  the  best  type  of  a  French  gentleman  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  and  a  type  none  too  common  at 

143 


)■:         ' 


^^ 


<.i 


A       I    < 


MONTCALM 


[1756 


'i  I 


this  particular  epoch.  Unlike  most  of  his  kind,  when 
off  duty,  he  was  able  to  bear  a  rural  life  with  some- 
thing more  than  equanimity.  He  could  exist  con- 
tentedly outside  the  meretricious  sunshine  of 
Versailles,  and  was  never  indeed  so  happy  as  when 
settled  at  Candiac  in  the  midst  of  his  family,  for 
both  of  which  he  cherished  a  most  ardent  affec- 
tion. 

In  his  soldierly  way  he  was  both  cultured  and 
religious ;  above  all,  he  was  brave,  honest,  and 
patriotic.  For  such  a  man  there  was  certainly  not 
much  profit  to  be  looked  for  in  a  Canadian  command 
— a  matter  to  which  Montcalm  with  ten  children  and 
an  encumbered  estate  could  not  be  indifferent.  With 
equal  certainty  there  was  much  hardship  in  prospect, 
and  no  great  likelihood  of  a  successful  termination 
to  the  struggle.  Montcalm's  private  letters,  cheery 
though  they  are,  show  how  little  he  appreciated 
his  long  banishment  from  home  and  friends  and 
country,  and  indicate  pretty  plainly  how  patriotic 
were  his  motives  and  how  admirable  his  princi- 
ples. With  him  went  De  Levis  and  De  Bourlamaque 
as  second  and  third  in  command,  both  excellent 
soldiers  ;  while  his  aide-de-camp  was  Bougainvillei 
the  diarist  of  these  campaigns,  and  the  famous 
traveller  of  later   years. 

The  Governor  of  Canada  in  the  meantime,  with 
all  the  typical  vanity  of  that  Canadian  nation- 
ality he  so  greatly  affected,  would  gladly  have 
dispensed  with  professional  assistance  and  himself 
conducted  the  military  as  well  as  the  civil  affairs 
of  the  colony.  De  Vaudreuil's  hints  to  the  home 
Government,  however,  as  to  the  advantages  of  such 
an  arrangement  were  thrown  away,   and  he  had  to 

144 


M 


i 


1756]     FEEBLE  CONDITION  OF  OSWEGO 

put  the  best  face  he  could  on  the  situation,  which,  to 
judge  by  Montcalm's  letters,  who  as  yet  knew  nothing 
of  these  heart-burnings,  was  a  very  good  one.  The 
general,  to  be  sure,  was  nominally  under  the  Governor's 
orders  ;  but  it  is  not  difficult  to  estimate  what  force 
these  would  have  in  the  stress  of  a  fight  for  existence. 
A  civilian,  it  will  be  remembered,  was  also  in  com- 
mand of  the  British  American  forces  at  this  moment. 
But  there,  on  the  contrary,  it  was  by  no  means 
certain  the  coming  change  was  for  the  bette" 
Shirley  was  not  a  heaven-born  general,  but  theie 
were  many  people  of  good  judgment  who  thought 
that  he  was  at  any  rate  better  than  his  immediate 
successors.  He  had  sense,  energy,  and  some  gift  for 
procuring  and  adopting  the  best  advice ;  he  also 
knew  the  country  and  the  people.  His  recent  failure 
against  Niagara  was  entirely  venial ;  but  he  was 
loudly  blamed  later  on  for  not  having  properly 
victualled  the  garrison  he  had  left  to  winter  at 
Oswego.  The  omission  had  caused  great  sickness 
and  suffering.  The  sentries,  so  credible  witnesses 
declared,  were  so  weak  from  want  of  food  that  they 
had  to  go  on  duty  with  a  stick  to  keep  themselves 
from  falling,  while  the  mortality  was  considerable. 
The  rumours  of  Shirley's  supercession  which  were 
rife  throughout  the  winter  were  officially  confirmed 
in  February.  He -put  aside,  however,  the  mortifica- 
tion which  vexed  his  soul  most  deeply,  and  worked 
with  zeal  and  honesty  in  preparations  for  the  coming 
season. 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  remark  that  campaigning 
on  any  serious  scale  was  out  of  the  question  in  the 
Northern  colonies  till  the  woods  and  lakes  had  been 
loosed  from  their  wintry  burden  by  the  warm  winds 

145  L 


'li: 


H( 


I  I 


\U 


\  , 


^ 


NEW  ENGLAND'S  ENERGY     [1756 

of  April,  and  wholly  freed  from  it  by  the  suns  of 
May.  Even  armies  in  Europe  at  that  day  wont 
into  winter  quarters,  and  suspended  operations  by 
a  sort  of  unwritten  agreement,  as  if  war  were 
in  truth  a  game  to  be  played  under  conventional 
rules.  But  the  colonial  forces,  after  leaving  slender 
garrisons  in  a  few  isolated  snow-bound  outposts,  not 
only  went  into  winter  quarters,  but  to  their  homes — 
each  man  to  his  farm,  his  office,  or  his  shop.  He 
ceased  to  be  a  soldier,  and  it  rested  entirely  with 
himself  whether  he  ever  would  be  again.  With  the 
exception  of  a  few  permanent  companies,  the  colonies 
had  every  year  to  form  practically  a  fresh  army,  and 
that  under  difficulties  which  were  very  great,  though 
in  part  of  their  own  making.  That  troops  would  be 
required,  and  in  greater  numbers  than  ever  before, 
for  the  season  of  1756,  was  now  very  evident.  New 
England,  the  chief  source  of  supply,  had  been  much 
discouraged,  partly  by  the  military  failures  of  the 
preceding  year  and  partly  by  the  large  debt  its  outlay 
had  accumulated.  Though  full  of  zeal  in  her  stolid, 
undemonstrative  fashion,  it  was  with  profound 
satisfaction  that,  as  an  eminently  business-like  people, 
she  heard  of  the  substantial  sum  of  £115,000  voted 
her  by  the  British  Parliament  for  past  expenses,  and, 
greatly  cheered,  girded  up  her  loins  for  a  renewal 
of  the  contest. 

Shirley  was  in  a  strange  position.  He  had  to  plan 
the  campaigns  for  the  coming  season,  and  trust  to 
their  meeting  with  the  approval  of  his  successors, 
who  seemed  in  no  hurry  to  take  up  their  responsi- 
bilities. There  was  in  truth  no  wide  field  of  choice. 
The  two  nations,  as  I  have  before  remarked,  could 
only  strike  each  other  by  land  in  serious   fashion 

146 


^ 


1756]  OPERATIONS  FOR  THE  NEW  YEAR 

on  the  two  lines*    with  which  my  readers  are,  I 
trust,  now  familiar.     Oswego,  the  extremity  of  the 
western  route,  and  no  longer  a  mere  base  for  an 
attack  on  Niagara,  called  loudly  for  support,  and  was 
in  fact  in  imminent  danger.     On  the  northern  route 
the    French    held  Crown   Point    and    Ticonderoga, 
being  thus  omnipotent  on  Lake  Champlain,  while  the 
British,  forty  miles  to  the  southward,  had  their  out- 
posts at  the  head  of  Lake   George.      It  was    the 
obvious  object  of  each  to  drive  the  other  back — the 
one  on  Albany,  with  a  possibility  of  capturing  it ;  the 
other  on  Montreal,  with  about  the  same  prospect  of 
success.     The  French,  however,  of  the  two,  would  be 
more  strictly  on  the  defensive.     Whatever  their  hopes 
of  Western  dominion,  they  had  no   serious  thoughts 
of  doing  more  than  temporary  damage  to  the  old 
British  colonies,  while  the  English,  in  view  of  their 
numerical  superiority,  could  fairly  regard  the  con- 
quest of  Canada  as  a  possibility.     A  secor  d   expe- 
dition   to    Duquesne  was  of    course   an    inevitable 
move,   both   to    avenge    Braddock  and    to   destroy 
the  hornets'  nest   that  was  ravaging  the  frontiers 
of  Pennsylvania  and  Virginia.     But  without  the  help 
of    these    two    provinces    the   venture  was  impos- 
sible ;  and,  as  we  have  seen,  they  were  scarcely  able 
at  this  moment  to  protect  themselves. 

The  Earl  of  Loudon  had  been  appointed  to  succeed 
Shirley,  but  he  did  not  arrive  till  August,  and  in  the 
interval  General  Abercrombie,  with  Colonel  Webb  as 
second  in  command,  acted  as  substitute.  Those  two 
officers  landed  in  June,  and,  with  their  tardy  chief, 

*  The  route  to  Fort  Duquesne,  or  the  third  line  of  attack,  was  of 
course  the  very  reverse  of  a  natural  artery,  and  only  necessitated 
by  temporary  conditions. 

147 


^'  In 


FT""— =! 


^  . 


L  !  ■;  ! 


A  COLONIAL  MUSTER 


[1756 


)  I 


li 


constituted  perhaps  the  most  indifferent  trio  that 
were  ever  inflicted  at  one  blow  upon  a  British  army. 
Poor  Shirley  got  little  thanks  either  from  his  succes- 
sors or  the  home  Government  for  his  faithful  and 
unquestionably  useful  services.  He  had,  moreover, 
lost  two  sons  in  the  recent  campaigns. 

It  was  always  a  cumbersome  business  getting  the 
New  England  troops  into  the  field,  not  on  account  of 
lack  of  zeal,  but  of  the  jealousies  which  would  not 
tolerate  any  central  system  of  organization.  Each 
colony  insisted  on  retaining  in  its  own  hands  the 
transport  and  maintenance  of  its  forces,  and  each 
watched  its  neighbours  narrowly,  lest  their  burden  of 
labour  and  war  contribution  should  be  proportion- 
ately less  than  its  own.  Usually,  too,  they  strictly 
limited  the  srliere  on  which  their  troops  were  to  act. 
Their  method  of  raising  an  army,  after  the  legisla- 
ture had  voted  the  money,  was  in  the  first  instance 
to  call  for  volunteers.  If  this  did  not  produce  the 
fully  required  result,  the  colone!^  of  militia  were  in- 
structed to  muster  their  regiments,  and  draft  out  of 
them  the  number  of  men  still  needed.  Most  brought 
their  own  firearms  ;  those  who  did  not  were  supplied 
with  them,  in  addition  to  hats,  uniforms  of  blue 
cloth,  knapsacks,  powder  horns,  and  canteens.  This 
year  each  man  received  a  bounty  of  six  dollars  on 
enlistment,  and,  as  a  private,  twenty-six  shillings  a 
month  as  pay.  In  addition  to  their  rations,  a  gill  of 
rum  was  served  out  daily  ;  while,  if  they  misbehaved 
themselves,  republicans  in  habit  of  life  though  they 
were,  handcuffs  and  the  wooden  horse,  and  even 
the  whipping  post,  were  the  manner  of  their  punish- 
ment. This  division  of  authority  caused  much  con- 
fusion  and   no   lit'-le   ill   temper  among   the   heads 

148 


1756] 


PROVINCIAL  TROOPS 


of  the  army.  "I  wish  to  God,"  wrote  Loudon  to 
Winslow,  "you  could  nake  your  people  go  all  one 
way  "  ;  while  a  poor  commissary  of  provincial  troops 
complains  that  all  the  thanks  he  gets  for  his  en- 
deavours to  supply  them  is  to  be  called  a  d — d 
rascal. 

Albany  and  the  ocxghbouring  banks  of  the  Hudson 
formed  now,  as  erver,  the  point  of  concentration  for  all 
the  Northern  forces,  both  those  destined  for  Lake 
George  and  those  intended  for  Oswego.  The  first 
were  to  be  nearly  all  New  England  troops,  and  by 
slow  degrees  some  seven  thousand  men  were  gathered 
in  two  large  camps,  or  near  them — the  one  at  Fort 
William  Henry,  on  Lake  George,  the  scene  of  Dies- 
kaus  repulse;  the  other  at  Fort  Edward,  fourteen 
miles  nearer  Albany,  on  the  Hudson.  The  first  was 
commanded  by  our  old  friend  Winslow,  the  pro- 
vincial officer  of  Acadian  celebrity  now  ranking  as 
a  general ;  the  second  under  that  still  more  capable 
Now  England  colonel,  Lyman,  who,  it  may  be 
remembered,  supported  Johnson  at  the  same  place  in 
the  previous  year.  Here  the  troops  waited  for 
Loudon,  and  suffered  all  the  evils  and  discomforts 
inevitable  to  a  mob  of  amateur  soldiers,  indifferently 
provided  for  and  left  for  a  prolonged  period  of  com- 
parative inactivity  in  a  wilderness.  Of  occupation  of 
sorts  there  was  enough  in  strengthening  the  fortifi- 
cations, clearing  the  forest  around  them,  improving 
the  fourteen  miles  of  road  over  the  portage,  and 
bivMing  the  large  fleet  of  whale-boats  and  batteaux 
which  would  be  required  for  conveying  the  army 
down  the  lake  to  Ticonderoga. 

The  fighting  was  confined  on  both  sides  to  small 
scouting  and   scalping  parties,  who  vied  with  each 

149 


'<!'    ' 


LOUDON  ARRIVES 


[1756 


1^1 


■ir'  :'! 


if!  ' 


"If    4 


M 


other  in  deeds  of  daring  and  endurance,  and  supped 
their  fill  of  the  horrors  of  Indian  warfare,  and  la  petite 
guerre.  The  bulk  of  the  troops,  ignorant  of  the 
first  principles  of  camp  sanitation,  sickened  by  thou- 
sands, and  died  literally  by  hundreds,  in  a  region  of 
itself  notoriously  healthy.  Their  officers,  in  the 
absence  of  more  stirring  work,  found  all  too  much 
time  for  airing  those  jealousies  inevitable  to  an  ill- 
disciplined  force  composed  of  the  soldiers  of  four 
or  five  different  Governments.  The  godly  chaplains 
of  New  England,  who  had  accompanied  their  flocks 
to  the  field,  bewailed  their  backslidings  when  freed 
from  the  eye  of  the  village  minister  and  the  "^  •'' 
deacon.  Their  rousing  sermons  were  often  buL  ill 
attended,  and  not  at  all,  they  complain,  by  the  senior 
officers,  who  drank  punch  and  smoked  in  their  tents, 
not  only  durin«f  the  hours  of  divine  service,  but 
actually  in  sight  of  the  open-air  congregation.  The 
rank  and  file,  if  they  could  not  escape  the  preacher's 
regular  exhortations,  took  to  cursing  and  swearing 
as  kindly  as  if  they  had  been  born  in  Wapping,  or 
had  served  in  Flanders  ! 

When,  in  August,  Loudon  at  length  reached  Al- 
bany, he  found  himself  seriously  embarrassed  by  one 
of  those  amazing  blunders  to  which  British  Govern- 
ments, in  dealing  with  colonials,  have  in  former  days 
been  so  prone,  and  perhaps  are  not  yet  wholly  cured 
of.  A  special  order  had  come  out  from  England 
that  no  provincial  officer,  under  any  circumstances, 
should  rank  higher  than  a  senior  captain  of  regulars. 
In  other  words,  a  British  major  of  one-and-twenty, 
who  had  never  seen  a  shot  fired — and  there  were 
plenty  such  in  the  army  of  that  day — would  take 
precedence  in   the  field  of  a  provincial  brigadier  or 

150 


[1756 

nd  supped 
ttd  la  petite 
nt  of  the 
d  by  thou- 

region  of 
rs,   in    the 

too  much 
I  to  an  ill- 
irs  of  four 
f  chaplains 
iheir  flocks 
vhen  freed 
thev'" 
ten  biib  ill 
'  the  senior 
their  tents, 
ervice,  but 
ation.     The 
)  preacher's 
d  swearing 
/'apping,  or 

eached   Al- 
ssed  by  one 
ish  Govern- 
brnier  days 
loUy  cured 
England 
umstances, 
of  regulars, 
ind-twenty, 
there  were 
would  take 
►rigadier  or 


n 


■■:.;f 


■■) 


1756]   BRITISH  AND   COLONIAL  SOLDIER 

colonel,  of  veterans  like  Winslow  and  Lynan,  for 
instance ;  of  Johnson,  Bradstreet,  or  George  Washing- 
ton !  The  colonial  officers  were  ablaze  with  indigna- 
tion, as  wril  they  may  have  been.  Loudon,  who  was 
himself  a  wooden  kind  of  man,  and  had  certainly  no 
tenderness  for  provincials,  was  greatly  exasperated. 
There  was  no  question  of  rescinding  the  order,  no  hope 
of  compromise,  nor  authority  to  grant  it.  The  officers 
of  New  England  regiments  threatened  to  go  home  in 
a  body.  Loudon  appealed  to  Winslow,  who  was  a 
broad-minded,  sensible  man,  to  use  his  influence ;  and 
he  brought  his  people  to  see  that  there  was  nothing 
for  it  at  present  but  to  swallow  the  uncalled-for  and 
ill-timed  slight.  Fortunately,  no  movements  of  im- 
portance took  place  to  test  the  strain ;  but  the  sore 
rank)ed.  British  officers  of  that  day  were  only  too 
prone,  by  their  supercilious  attitude,  to  wound  the 
susceptibilities  of  their  colonial  brothers  in  arms.  It 
is,  of  course,  only  the  old  story  of  the  professional  and 
the  volunteer  added  to  that  of  the  Briton  and  the 
colonial,  which  no  one  who  has  lived  in  British 
colonies  would  require  to  have  elaborated.  This  sore 
feeling  was  a  conspicuous  feature  of  the  war.  It  is 
well  known  to  have  been  one  of  the  irritants  that 
prepared  the  soil  for  the  Revolution.  One  would 
be  inclined  to  think  that  it  was  peculiarly  an  English 
failing  ;  hc*^,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  something  very 
like  it  prevailed  in  Montcalm's  army.  But  this  special 
order  was  another  thing  altogether.  It  was  not  a 
mere  question  of  tact  or  manners,  but  a  blunder  of 
the  worst  kind. 

It  was  issued  at  a  critical  nioment  in  face  of  the 
enemy,  and  would  liave  delayed,  if  not  hampered, 
Loudon's    attack ;    but   Loudon    would    in    no    case 

151 


I 


■\ 


A  FUTILE  CAMPAIGN 


[1756 


) 


probably  have  now  attacked.  Nearly  six  thousand 
French  were  at  Ticonderoga,  at  the  near  end  of 
Lake  Champlain,  strongly  entrenched.  Twice  their 
number  could  not  have  moved  them,  and  Loudon, 
though  by  the  close  of  summer  he  had  10,000  men 
under  his  command,  including  the  sick  and  the  35th 
regiment  (Otway's),  which  had  just  come  out,  900 
strong,  considered  that  the  efiPort  was  hopeless. 
Rumours  of  a  French  attack  from  time  to  time 
came  drifting  up  the  long,  narrow  waters  of  Lake 
George ;  but  the  French,  strong  for  defence,  could 
no  more  attack  Loudon  than  he  could  attack  them. 
Thus  the  summer  passed  away  in  costly  inactivity, 
and  when  the  ice  spread  once  more  over  lake  and 
stream,  when  the  green  mountains  of  Vermont  were 
no  longer  green,  and  the  Adirondacks  showed  a  snowy 
carpet  beneath  their  naked  woodlands,  French  and 
English  were  both  more  firmly  lodged  than  in  the 
previous  year,  but  neither  were  one  whit  more 
forward. 

Loudon  was  a  melancholy  and  irascible  man.  He 
was  in  no  sense  fitted  for  his  position,  but  he  can 
hardly  be  held  responsible  for  the  barrenness  of  the 
season's  campaigns  on  Lake  George,  unless,  indeed, 
his  late  arrival  in  America  may  be  held  against 
him.  He  would  have  enough  to  answer  for  in  the 
following  year,  though  his  blunders,  unlike  those  of 
his  brother  generals,  were  to  be  those  rather  of  omis- 
sion than  of  misguided  action. 

In  the  early  part  of  this  year  a  royal  commission 
had  been  sent  out  to  Sir  William  Johnson,  appointing 
him  colonel  and  sole  superintendent  of  the  Six 
Nation  Indians  and  responsible  to  the  Crown  alone. 
Colonial  dealings  with  these  Indians,  chiefly  carried 

152 


v  t 


Ml  ti 


1756]    JOHNSON  PACIFIES  THE  INDIANS 

on  by  the  Dutch  traders  of  Albany  and  New  York, 
had     worked    incalculable    mischief.     The     French 
were  striving  more  vigorously  than  ever,  by  bribes 
and  threats,  to  win  over  the  Six  Nations,  and  the 
latter,  growing  more  disheartened  as  English  prestige 
declined,  were  now  in  a  dangerous  state  of  hesitation. 
Matters  were  indeed  so  serious  that  Johnson  made  a 
perilous  journey  through  forests,  alive  with  French 
and  Indian  freebooters,  to  the  Six  Nation  capital  at 
Onandaga,  and  after  a  fortnight  of  that  sensational 
diplomacy  he  understood  so  well,  he  had  secured   at 
any  rate  their  neutrality.     He  raised  his  voice,  too, 
further  afield,  and  tried  to  stem  the  raiding  hordes 
of  Delawares  and  Shewanoes,   who  were  still  deso- 
lating  the   frontiers   of   th  ^  middle  colonies.     Some 
of  these  actually  came  at  his  summons  all  the  way 
to  Fort  Johnson,  where,  amid  great  ceremonies,  much 
din    of   war-cries   and   riotous    dancing,   and    floods 
of    rum,    he    exacted    promises    from    them    which 
possibly  a  few  kept.     But  these  nations,  save  those 
small  broken   bands   which   had   already  joined   the 
French,   were  secured   to  neutrality,  and  this,  from 
their   midway   situation   between   the   rival   armies, 
was  a  point  of  immeasurable  importance. 

While  nothing  of  moment  was  achieved  this  season 
by  either  side  at  the  principal  seat  of  war,  a  disaster 
befell  the  British  arms  to  the  westward,  as  great  as 
that  of  Braddock's  defeat  in  the  preceding  year. 
This  was  the  fall  and  destruction  of  Oswego,  whoso 
garrison  has  been  already  alluded  to  as  weak  in 
numbers  and  half  starved.  The  route  thither  from 
Albany  was  guarded  at  certain  spots  by  rude  forts. 
One  of  these  had  been  attacked  and  destroyed  by 
a  flying  column  of  French  and  Indians  in  the  dead 

153 


II 


ill 


w 


\]'i 


Ml' 


t' 


/ 


)li  i  ■ 


/ 1 


J 


I'  V 


,)» 


BBADSTBEET  TAKES  SUPPLIES     [1756 

of  winter.  Shirley,  conscious  of  Oswego's  weakness 
but  short  of  troops,  had  in  the  early  spring  struck 
out  a  new  departure  and  engaged  two  thousand 
boatmen  and  whaling  hands  from  the  coast  to 
carry  supplies  to  the  Ontario  fort,  arming  them  with 
guns  and  tomahawks.  Bradstreet,  another  colonial 
colonel  of  sense,  zeal,  and  daring,  and  some  military 
experience,  was  placed  in  command.  The  outward 
journey,  up  the  Mohawk  and  its  feeders,  with  a  port- 
age across  the  watershed  and  thence  down  into 
Oneida  Lake  and  the  Oswego  River,  was  achieved 
without  opposition.  On  the  return  journey,  how- 
ever, Bradstreet,  whose  force  was  in  three  divisions, 
was  stoutly  attacked  about  nine  miles  up  from 
Oswego  by  seven  hundred  of  the  enemy.  After  a 
smart  encounter  in  and  around  the  bed  of  the 
Oswego  River,  his  boatmen  drove  the  French  back, 
with  a  loss  of  about  fifty  on  either  side.  This,  how- 
ever, was  but  an  incident  barren  of  any  results  but 
the  actual  lives  lost.  The  French  had  intended  to 
strike  Bradstreet  laden  with  supplies  on  the  way  up ; 
but  he  had  been  too  quick  for  them  :  indeed,  this 
oificer  had  an  excellent  habit  of  being  too  nimble, 
both  in  attack  and  defence,  even  for  his  nimble 
foe.  There  were  few  of  his  compatriots,  British  or 
colonial,  at  this  time  of  whom  such  could  be  said. 
Almost  before  he  was  missed,  Montcalm  had  slipped 
away  from  Ticonderoga  and  arrived  with  a  powerful 
force  in  front  of  the  dismayed  invalids  and  feeble, 
ill-protected  garrison  of  Oswego.  De  Vaudreuil  and 
Montcalm  did  not  often  agree  in  a  plan  of  campaign  ; 
but  they  were  in  full  accord  as  to  this  one.  De 
Villiera,  who  had  led  the  attack  on  Bradstreet,  was 
still   within  reach,   so  was   Rigaud,  the   Governor's 

154 


> 


[1756 

lakness 

struck 
ousand 
>a8t  to 
m  with 
colonial 
military 
)utward 

a  port- 
jvn  into 
ichieved 
)y,  how- 
livisions, 
iip   from 

After  a 
[  of  the 
ich  back, 
his,  how- 
isults  but 
ended  to 
I  way  up ; 
leed,  this 

0  nimble, 
s  nimble 
British  or 

1  be  said, 
ad  slipped 
1,  powerful 
nd  feeble, 
dreuil  and 
campaign ; 

one.  De 
street,  was 
Governor's 


1756]   WEAK  CONDITION  OF  OSWEGO 

brother,  who  had  gone  westward  with  more  men.  It 
was  early  in  August  when  Montcalm,  leaving  De  Levis 
in  command  at  Ticonderoga,  started  at  full  speed  for 
Fort  Frontenac,  reaching  there  in  a  week.  Frontenac 
lay  just  across  the  lake  from  Oswego,  and  about 
sixty  miles  distant.  The  regiments  of  La  Sarre  and 
Guienne  had  in  the  meantime  been  forwarded  there 
from  Montreal,  and  that  of  B^arn  fetched  up  from 
Niagara.  Besides  these,  Montcalm  had  with  him 
Canadians,  colony  regulars,  and  Indians,  amounting 
in  all  to  about  three  thousand  men,  with  a  strong 
train  of  artilleiy,  including  some  of  Braddock's 
captured  g^ns.  Oswego,  a  considerable  trading- 
station,  with  houses,  storing  sheds  and  forts,  a  mere 
gash  in  the  interminable  forests  that  in  those  days 
brooded  over  the  now  populous  and  busy  shores  of 
Lake  Ontario,  was  entirely  unconscious  of  its  im- 
pending fate.  It  possessed  two  very  inferior  forts 
standing  upon  either  side  of  the  mouth  of  the  Os- 
wego River,  and  a  third  one  behind,  which  is  de- 
scribed as  merely  an  improved  cattle  pen,  derisively 
christened  "Fort  Rascal."  None  of  them,  however, 
were  fit  to  stand  cannon  shot.  Mackellar,  the  chief 
British  engineer  in  America,  had  condemned  the 
place  entirely.  Why  nothing  had  been  done  to 
strengthen  it  is  not  explained. 

Colonel  Mercer,  an  excellent  and  brave  officer, 
had  been  left,  it  will  be  remembered,  in  command, 
and  had  with  him  about  a  thousand  soldiers  of  sorts 
and  eight  small  guns.  There  were  also  some  six 
hundred  non-combatants,  including  a  hundred  and 
twenty  women  and  children.  The  soldiers  were 
chiefly  of  Pepperall's  regiment  (51st)  and  New  Jersey 
militia,  and  were  in  great  part  recruits  or  invalids 

155 


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MONTCALM  BESIEGES  OSWEGO    [1756 

Montcalm  crossed  the  extreme  eastern  end  of  Lake 
Ontario  on  the  nights  of  the  fourth  and  fifth,  by  divi- 
sions. On  the  eighth  all  his  force  was  collected  on  the 
southern  shore.  Thence  it  took  them  about  thirty 
hours,  part  of  the  army  marching  through  the  woods, 
part  skirting  the  shore  in  batteaux,  to  reach  a  point 
within  a  mile  of  Oswego.  It  was  not  till  the  French 
were  all  gathered  here  on  the  shore,  with  guns  ready 
for  action,  that  the  garrison  knew  any  movement 
was  impending,  so  bad  was  their  scouting.  Mont- 
calm's chief  engineer  went  forward  to  report,  accom- 
panied by  clouds  of  Canadian  and  Indian  sharp- 
shooters, who  accidentally  shot  him,  though  not  till 
he  had  pronounced  the  forts  to  be  untenable.  Mont- 
calm then  set  about  cutting  his  intrenchments,  know- 
ing full  well  that  he  had  the  place  in  the  hollow 
of  his  hand.  The  garrison  fired  their  light  guns 
at  his  working-parties,  but  with  little  efiPect.  The 
French  were  upon  the  east  banic  of  the  river,  and 
Fort  Ontario,  which  protected  thfit  side,  was  laid  out 
in  the  shape  of  a  star,  and  Vailt  of  tree-trunks 
fiattened  upon  both  sides  and  placed  upright  in 
the  ground — an  excellent  defence  against  musketry, 
but  none  whatever  against  cannon.  Three  hundred 
and  seventy  men  of  Pepperall's  regiment  were  inside 
it,  but  Mercer,  who  was  in  the  fort  west  of  the  river, 
signalled  to  them  to  evacuate  it  and  cross  to  his 
side.  This  move  was  effected  without  interruption. 
In  the  night  Montcalm  had  thirty  guns  mounted 
on  the  river  bank  within  five  hundred  yards  of 
Mercer  s  fort.  This  was  only  protected  against  the 
south  and  west,  the  river  side  being  entirely  open. 
The  gap  was  filled  by  pork-barrels  for  want  of 
something   better,    and    Mercer,  thus  equipped,  pre- 

156 


1756] 


THE  FALL  OF  OSWEGO 


pared  for  the  attack  by  opening  the  hottest  fire 
he  was  capable  of  upon  the  French.  Some  execu- 
tion was  done ;  but  when  the  heavy  cannon  of  the 
enemy,  hurling  grape  and  round  shot  through  the 
flimsy  defences,  got  seriously  to  work,  the  hopeless- 
ness of  the  defence  became  very  evident,  though 
Mercer  behaved  with  great  bravery.  Montcalm 
now  decided  to  attack  the  further  side  of  the  sta- 
tion, which  was  weakly  intrenched,  with  infantry. 
There  was  a  ford  over  the  Oswego  River  two  miles 
up,  and  a  large  force  of  Canadians  and  Indians 
crossed  it  and  swarmed  around  the  ramparts,  pouring 
in  a  heavy  fire  from  the  shelter  of  the  woods. 
Mercer  was  at  this  moment  killed  by  a  round  shot, 
and  with  his  fall  the  heart  went  out  of  the  garrison. 
Their  case  was  indeed  hopeless;  the  non-combatants 
clamoured  loudly  for  surrender,  and  the  shrieks  of 
the  terrified  women,  as  the  grape-shot  from  Montcalm's 
guns  shivered  the  wooden  buildings  and  defences  in 
all  directions,  emphasized  the  demand.  The  frightful 
yells  of  the  Indians,  too,  outside  the  walls  was  signifi- 
cant of  the  ghastly  terrors  of  an  assault.  A  council 
of  war  was  called,  and  it  was  decided  to  capitulate. 
The  surrender  was  practically  unconditional.  One 
thousand  six  hundred  and  forty  prisoners  were  taken 
in  all,  most  of  whom  were  forwarded  to  Canada. 
Six  vessels  carrying  fifty-two  guns  fell  into  Mont- 
calm's hands,  with  two  hundred  barges,  a  hundred 
and  thirteci  cannon  and  mortars,  with  large  sup- 
plies of  ammunition,  pork,  flour,  spirits,  silver, 
and  £18,000  in  cash.  Five  standards  were  captured 
and  hung  as  trophies  upon  the  walls  of  Montreal 
Cathedral.  The  usual  difficulty  was  experienced 
in     restraining     the     Indians    from     taking    what 

157 


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DESTRUCTION   OF  THE   POST     [1756 

seemed  to  them  their  natural  toll  of  bloof'  plunder 
and  scalps — above  all,  when  liquor  was  ^  mtiful, 
as  it  was  on  this  occasion.  A  bloody  scene  at  one 
time  threatened,  and  all  Montcalm's  efforts  united 
to  those  of  his  French  officers  were  needed  to  pre- 
vent it.  The  Canadians,  of  all  ranks,  were  neutrals 
on  this  subject.  They  well  knew  the  risk  of  losing 
their  allies  if  they  thwarted  them  in  the  matter, 
and  had  themselves  grown  callous  to  its  horrors, 
regarding  the  murdering,  scalping,  and  torturing 
of  prisoners  at  the  hands  of  the  savages  with  con- 
siderable equanimity.  There  is  some  little  discrep- 
ancy in  the  accounts  of  what  happened  at  the  fall 
of  Oswego.  It  seems  probable,  however,  that  only 
prisoners  who  tried  to  escape  through  the  woods 
were  tomahawked — a  fate  which  they  courted  with 
their  eyes  open.  Montcalm,  however,  reports  that 
it  cost  him  a  good  deal  of  money  to  redeem 
prisoners  from  the  Indians.  The  casualties  on  either 
side  in  the  siege  were  inconsiderable ;  but  the  loss 
of  a  station  so  vital  to  the  British  was  extremely 
serious. 

Montcalm  now  took  steps  to  wipe  Oswego  off  the 
face  of  the  earth.  He  destroyed  all  the  vessels 
and  stores  he  could  not  carry  away,  and  levelled 
the  buildings  and  fortifications  with  the  ground. 
Among  the  ruins  and  ashes  his  senior  priest,  Piquet, 
planted  a  tall  cross  bearing  the  inscription.  In  hoc 
signo  vincunt.  From  a  pole  near  by  were  hung  the 
arms  of  France,  engraven  with  the  words  Manihua 
dat  lilia  plenis.  The  spot  was  then  abandoned  to 
the  wolves,  and  Montcalm,  with  his  army,  his 
prisoners,  and  his  booty,  sailed  away  eastward. 

Webb  had  all  this  time  been  toiling  up  the  Mohawk 

158 


1756] 


WEBB'S  BLUNDERS 


from  Albany,  and  was  rather  more  than  half-way- 
through  when  the  news  reached  him  that  Oswego 
had  fallen.  As  he  appears  to  have  only  had  with 
him  that  remnant  of  the  44th  regiment  which  had 
survived  Braddock*s  defeat  of  the  previous  year,  it  is 
perhaps  just  as  well  that  he  did  not  make  a  present 
of  another  three  or  four  hundred  prisoners  to 
Montcalm.  It  was  hardly  Webb's  fault  that  his 
support  was  so  tardy  as  well  as  weak,  but  when 
scouts  brought  him  news  of  the  capitulation,  he 
justified  in  his  person  and  by  his  action  the  sore- 
ness that  was  felt  at  the  wholesale  snubbing  of 
provincial  officers.  Fresh  rumours  asserted  that 
Montcalm  was  coming  down  the  western  route 
to  Albany  with  six  thousand  men.  Webb  was 
panic  -  stricken.  He  did  not  pause  to  ascertain 
whether  the  rumours  were  true  or  whether  Mont- 
calm could  get  such  a  force  through  such  a  route ; 
but  he  acted  as  if  the  whole  French  army  were  upon 
him.  He  burnt  two  forts  that  had  lately  been 
erected  at  considerable  trouble,  and  he  filled  the 
channel  of  Wood  Creek  *  with  fallen  timber,  of  which 
it  had  recently  and  at  great  labour  been  cleared  for 
purposes  of  navigation.  He  then  hurried  back  to 
the  German  flats  upon  the  Mohawk,  and  sat  down  to 
realize  in  due  course  that  his  performance  was  one 
that  no  militia  subaltern  of  average  wits  would 
have  committed.  It  was  a  conspicuous  instance  of 
the  fatal  errors  into  which  a  trained  officer  of  only 
moderate  capacity  may  fall  through  sheer  ignorance 
of  a  country,  its  people,  its  geography,  and  its  mode 
of  warfare,  when  coupled  with  a  proper  contempt 
for  local  advice. 

*  Not  of  course  the  Wood  Creek  near  Lake  George. 

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A  DISASTROUS  BLOW 


[1756 


The  destruction  of  Oswego  was  in  some  ways  more 
disastrous,  though  less  dramatic,  than  Braddock's  de- 
feat, and  another  wave  of  shame  and  sorrow  swept 
over  the  British  colonies.  Niagara  was  now  secure 
against  all  attack.  Worse  still,  British  influence  had 
been  swept  from  the  shores  of  Ontario,  which  was 
once  again  a  French  lake.  "Worse  than  all,  perhaps, 
another  deadly  blow  was  struck  at  what  was  left  of 
British  prestige.  Save  in  the  New  England  provinces, 
there  was  no  spark  of  military  vigour.  No  answer- 
ing challenge  to  the  audacity  of  the  French  came 
from  the  middle  and  Southern  colonies;  the  mini- 
mum of  necessary  protection  seems  to  have  been  the 
limit  of  their  ardour.  The  small  bodies  of  mercen- 
aries or  militia  they  sent  into  the  field,  and  the  hand- 
ful of  individuals  from  the  prosperous  classes,  that 
showed  what  we  should  now  call  a  proper  spirit,  only 
seem  to  accentuate  the  lethargy.  It  was  quite  evi- 
dent that  if  Great  Britain  was  to  maintain  her 
position  in  America  she  must  make  the  effort  her- 
self, and  as  yet  she  seemed  to  be  in  no  good  con- 
dition for  such  enterprises.  France,  on  the  other 
hand,  seemed  surely  blind  to  her  good  fortune.  The 
moment  was  hers  in  America ;  but  she  was  turning 
her  back  on  it,  and  gathering  her  strength  and 
treasure  to  waste  in  that  bloody  orgie  which  was 
soon  to  engulph  continental  Europe. 


160 


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[1756 

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1756]      NEWCASTLE'S  RE8IGXATI0N 


CHAPTER  VI 

DURING  the  past  autumn  the  dead  weight  of 
Newcastle's  blighting  hand  had  been  lifted 
from  British  policy.  His  very  friends  could  no 
longer  be  either  bribed  or  flattered  into  his  service, 
so  with  a  groan  of  anguish  like  that  of  a  miser 
parting  with  his  hoard,  the  venerable  intriguer  and 
pettiest  of  Prime  Ministers  at  last  resigned.  But  it 
was  no  easy  matter  at  that  moment  to  form  a 
fresh  Ministry.  The  personal  likes  and  dislikes  of 
the  king,  his  natural  attachment  to  Hanover,  and 
the  mutual  antipathies  of  potential  ministers  made 
a  strong  Government  impossible,  and  even  a  com- 
promise most  difficult.  Pitt  was  already  recog- 
nised as  not  only  the  most  popular  but  as  the 
most  brilliant  of  the  group.  But  Pitt  was  most 
unacceptable  to  the  king,  whose  knowledge  of  English 
was  anything  but  profound,  while  his  love  of  brevity 
in  the  discussion  of  business  was  notorious,  and  the 
Great  Commoner  had  a  habit  of  treating  him  in 
his  closet  to  flights  of  oratory  which  were  not 
only  unintelligib  '^  to  his  Majesty  but  insupportable 
to  his  practical,  drill-sergeant  type  of  mind.  Lord 
Temple  was  another  unwelcome  counsellor.  His 
civility  the  king  found  only  less  offensive  than  his 
remonstrances,  which  at  times  he  declared  took  the 
form  of  downright  insolence. 

131  M 


'•>i 


jniiiiiHiMiiltMH 


*»* 


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1 


I'k 


^  M 


THE   KING  AND  HIS  MINISTERS  [1756 

The  Byng  trial  was  now  dividing  England  into 
two  camps,  and  Temple,  in  his  endeavours  to  soften 
the  king's  heart  towards  the  unfortunate  admiral, 
drew  a  parallel  between  his  conduct  and  that  of  his 
Majesty's  at  Oudenarde,  somewhat  to  the  advantage 
of  Byng.  In  short,  he  allowed  the  king  to  assume 
that  if  Byng  deserved  to  be  shot,  he  himself  had 
deserved  to  be  hung  I  A  Ministry,  however,  was  at 
length  formed,  and  Parliament  met  in  December. 
The  Duke  of  Devonshire,  a  man  without  talent,  but 
of  conspicuous  honesty,  became  Prime  Minister,  with 
Pitt  as  Secretary  of  State.  The  speech  from  the 
throne  was  so  ludicrously  alien  to  the  king's  well- 
known  sentiments,  that  the  humour  of  it  found  ex- 
pression in  one  of  those  quaint  and  cynical  growls 
in  which  the  second  George  was  at  times  extremely 
happy. 

A  printer  had  been  arrested,  and  was  waiting  trial 
for  issuing  a  spurious  account  of  the  royal  speech. 
"  I  hope  they  will  deal  leniently  with  the  poor 
fellow,"  remarked  the  king,  "for  I  have  myself 
read  both  my  speeches,  and  so  far  as  I  understand 
either,  I  prefer  the  spurious  one."  A  national 
militia  on  a  new  footing  was  to  be  formed,  and 
Hanoverian  troops  who  had  been  quartered  through- 
out the  summer  at  Maidstone  and  Winchester,  con- 
ducting themselves  at  both  camps  in  exemplary 
fashion,  were  to  be  sent  back.  The  first  measure 
was  notoriously  unpalatable  to  the  king ;  the  second 
was  accompanied  by  circumstances  evidently  calcu- 
lated to  wound  his  feelings.  Pitt  was  laid  up  with 
the  gout  for  most  of  the  session.  Still,  when  they 
did  meet,  his  well-known  opposition  to  a  Hanover 
policy,  his  uncompromising  independence  and  mas- 

162  \ 


* 


r  i 


1757]     THE  FIGHT  WITH  FRANCE 

terful  nature,  made  him  miost  distasteful  to  the  king 
so  long  accustomed  to  Newcastle's  silken  and  defer- 
ential manners.     There  seemed  no  alternative,  how- 
ever, but  to   endure  it,  as  a  dismissal  of    the    new- 
made  Government   on    such   grounds    would    have 
been  venturesome  just  then  for  a  Hanoverian  king. 
But  the  Duke  of  Cumberland  also  hated  Pitt  for  his 
dislike  to  Hanover,  and  the  duke  was  at  that  moment 
starting  to  take  command  of  the  Hanoverian  army, 
in  view  of  a  French  invasion.      Not  relishing  the 
prospect  of  being  liable  to  Pitt's  control,  he  worked 
on  the  inclinations  of  his  father  and  succeeded  in 
screwing  his  courage  up  to  the  point  necessary  for 
a   dismissal    of    the    objectionable    ministers.      The 
fashion   in    which    this    was    done   hardly    belongs 
to  our  story.     It  will  be  sufficient  to  say  that  by 
April   the  country  was  again  without  leaders  at  a 
critical  moment  and   in  time  of  war.      For  three 
months  this  hazardous  state  of  things  continued,  so 
impossible  was   it  to  form   a   ministry  that   would 
also  please  the  king  who  prayed  continuously  to  be 
delivered   from   Pitt,   the   man  for  whom  the    cry 
of  the  country  was  getting  louder  and  louder.     The 
best  that  could  be   said    for   the   hiatus   was  that 
it  was   at    least   preferable  to  Newcastle's  activity. 
That     irrepressible    jobber,    pining     for     so    many 
months  in  the  unwonted  shades  of  opposition,  was 
again     hungering    for    power.       Devoid    of    either 
sensitiveness    or     humour,   and    impervious   to  the 
contempt    of    the   country,  he    cherished    hopes  of 
yet  once  more  steering   the  ship  of    State   with  a 
subservient    and    docile    crew.       The     difficulty    of 
securing    combination   among  the    abler   men,  and 
the  enormous  parliamentary  and  corrupt  influence 

163 


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.( 


H  ' 


/■,  't 


PITT  IN  SUPREME   POWER      [1757 

of  the  duke,  brought  him  within  measurable  dis- 
tance of  inflicting  himself,  and  with  himself 
disaster,  upon  the  country.  The  king  vastly  pre- 
ferred his  yielding,  timorous  manners  to  the  un- 
compromising independence  of  Pitt  or  Fox  or 
Temple.  But  Newcastle,  with  all  his  hopelessness 
in  great  affairs,  was  matchless  at  intrigue,  and  pos- 
sessed an  extraordinary  power  of  reducing  numbers 
of  otherwise  respectable  politicians  to  something 
like  political  slavery.  Even  the  king  lost  patience 
when  some  person  of  eminence  rejected  his  offer  of 
preferment  till  he  should  learn  the  pleasure  of  the 
ducal  wire-puller.  "  They  would  sooner,"  he  snapped 
out,  "be  the  Duke  of  Newcastle's  footmen  than 
serve  me." 

The  result  of  this  lengthy  and  precarious  confusion 
was  the  rise  of  Pitt  to  supreme  power,  a  power  so 
gloriously  used  as  to  make  the  epoch  marked  by  it 
one  of  the  most  memorable  in  the  annals  of  Britain. 
A  notable  feature,  too,  of  the  moment  was  the  partner- 
ship of  Newcastle  with  the  man  who  had  so  merci- 
lessly lashed  him  and  so  utterly  despised  him.  Nothing 
but  the  greatness  of  the  one  and  the  insignificance 
of  the  other  made  such  a  combination  possible. 
So  Newcastle  returned  to  office,  but  on  the  sole 
condition  of  abjuring  all  connection  with  great 
affairs,  and  of  confining  himself  wholly  to  the 
dirty  work  of  politics,  which  he  loved,  and  which 
possessed  at  that  time  an  importance  not  very  easy 
nowadays  to  fully  realize.  Pitt  had  now  a  free 
hand,  but  when  that  happy  consummation  was  reached 
it  was  past  midsummer  and  he  could  exercise  but 
little  influence  on  the  year's  operations  which  had 
been  already  planned.     He  had  succeeded,  however, 

164 


if 


(n 


;c^. 


y.-i 


1757]  REINFORCEMENTS  FOR  AMERICA 

in  the  face  of  some  opposition,  in  raising  the  first  of 
those  Highland  regiments  which  from  that  day  to  this 
have  been  such  a  conspicuous  feature  in  our  line 
of  battle.     Fifty-two  thousand  men  had  been  voted 
in  the  recent  Session  of  Parliament  for  the  Army, 
and    forty-five   thousand    for   the   Navy,  while  the 
militia    had    not    been  neglected.     Eight  thousand 
men  were  ordered  to  reinforce  Loudon  in  America, 
and,  adopting   that  general's   very  dubious  advice, 
Louisbourg,  with  Quebec  to  follow  in  the  event  of 
success,   was  made   the  somewhat  premature  object 
of  the  main  attack.     It  was  an  ill  fate  for  France 
that    the    moment  which   saw  the   advent  of  Pitt 
to  power  in  the  councils   of    Britain  almost  coin- 
cided with  the  withdrawal  from  her  own  of  the  men 
who  had  been  the   chief  support  of  her  Canadian 
policy.     Such  forces  as  she  had  thrown  into  Canada 
were    of    excellent     quality,  and    in    Montcalm  at 
least  she  possessed   by  very  far  the   ablest   soldier 
on  the  American  continent  at  that  time,  while  in 
her  colonists  she  had  a  willing  and  efficient  militia. 
Through  the  past  winter  of  1756-57,  little  could  be 
ascertained  in   Canada  about  the  intentions  of  the 
British.     The  bare  rumour  of  a  threatened  attack 
on     Quebec   would    cramp    Montcalm's    movements 
and     prevent     him    from    fully    concentrating    his 
strength  in  an  attack  on  Albany  and  the  fiourish- 
ing  settlements  of   the  Hudson.     The  slowness  and 
uncertainty  of  news  in  those  days  is  hard  to  realize, 
and  Quebec  j  particularly,   seated    on  its  throne  of 
snow   and    cut    off    from    the  Atlantic  by  endless 
leagues   of    ice    and   vast   areas    of    frozen  forests, 
awaited  each  recurring  spring,   in  a  state  of  more 
or  less    uncertainty,   what  fate    might  be  in  store 

165 


hi 


i?  ■ 


i 


tf'i  * 


I      ' 


pr^li 


li  }\  'I' 


hi  ! 


N, 


U': 


VAUDREUIL  AND  MONTCALM    [1757 

for  it  at  the  bursting  of  the  leaf.  Vaadreuil  wrote 
to  his  Government  upon  every  opportunity  long 
letters  in  praise  of  himself  and  his  Canadians,  and 
in  depreciation  of  Montcalm  and  his  regulars.  Mont- 
calm also  wrote  home,  touching  with  good-natured 
contempt  on  Vaudreuil  as  an  amiable  man  without 
a  will  of  his  own,  and  the  victim  of  designing 
creatures.  He  speaks  of  the  Canadians  as  useful 
behind  breastworks  or  in  the  woods,  but  of  no 
account  for  a  front  attack.  Li'ce  every  other  Euro- 
pean visitor  of  that  day,  he  remarks  on  their 
inordinate  vanity  and  boastfulness,  "  believing  them- 
selves to  be  the  first  nation  on  earth." 

Vaudreuil  confides  to  the  French  minister  that  one 
Canadian  is  worth  three  soldiers  from  old  France, 
though  the  latter,  he  condescends  to  admit,  are  good 
in  their  way,  and  it  is  significant  he  presses  for  more 
of  them !  His  figures,  when  applied  to  the  facts  of 
a  campaign,  might  almost  be  reversed  without  being 
very  wide  of  the  truth.  He  had  a  tolerably  con- 
sistent plan  of  multiplying  the  enemy  in  every  en- 
gagement by  two,  and  their  losses  by  three  or 
four.  Montcalm's  victoiies,  too,  were  all  due.  to 
Vaudreuil's  initiative  and  support ;  his  reverses  to 
neglect  of  Vaudreuil's  advice.  By  this  time,  how- 
ever, the  French  Government  had  probably  beguu 
to  pigeon-hole  the  voluminous  documents  that 
emanated  from  Quebec.  The  Governor's  childish 
vanity  and  hopeless  inability  to  speak  the  truth 
did  little  harm.  He  had  his  uses,  being  amazingly 
energetic  and  really  patriotic,  while  extolling  every- 
thing Canadian  at  the  expense  of  France  was  perhaps 
just  now  a  fault  on  the  right  side.  When  it  came 
to    severe   fighting,   however,    Montcalm    generally 

166 


1757] 


A  WINTER  ATTACK 


took  his  own  line,  and  it  signified  very  little  if  the 
Governor  filled  sheets  of  paper  claiming  the  credit 
of  it,  if  credit  were  earned,  to  a  remote  Minister 
of  Marine,  who  probably  never  broke  the  seal.  If 
Montcalm  had  a  fault,  it  was  perhaps  his  temper, 
which  seems  to  have  been  quick.  Like  Braddock,  he, 
no  doubt,  had  infinite  provocation. 

But  the  silence  of  this  winter  on  Lake  George  was 
not  to  be  broken  only  by  the  howling  of  wolves 
in  the  Adirondack  Mountains  and  the  roar  of  falling 
trees  in  the  snow-laden  forests.  The  outposts  who 
guarded  the  temporary  frontier  of  the  two  nations 
at  Ticonderoga  and  Fort  William  Henry  respectively, 
amused  themselves  from  time  to  time,  and  not  un- 
profitably,  in  scouting  for  prisoners,  whose  informa- 
tion was  highly  prized,  and  failing  this  for  scalps.  One 
really  serious  attempt  on  the  British  fort  was  made 
in  March.  It  seems  to  have  been  designed  by  Vau- 
dreuil,  and  was  placed,  moreover,  under  command  of 
his  brother  Rigaud,  which  sufficiently  accounted  in 
the  eyes  of  the  old  French  party  for  its  comparative 
failure.  Nor  did  he  trust  to  the  few  hundred  men 
who  were  wintering  at  the  front  for  his  enterprise, 
but  pushed  forward  from  Montreal  a  force  that 
raised  the  attacking  party  to  1,600  men — regulars, 
Redskins,  and  Canadians.  They  stayed  some  time  at 
Ticonderoga  making  scaling  ladders,  and  with  these 
upon  their  shoulders  they  traversed  the  lake  on  the 
ice  and  crept  close  to  the  British  fort  on  the  night  of 
March  the  eighteenth,  to  the  entire  surprise  of  the 
garrison.  Major  Eyre  was  in  command  with  less 
than  four  hundred  effective  men.  The  British  gar- 
risons in  all  these  cheerless  wintry  stations  made  the 
most  of  anniversaries.     Major  Knox,  in  his  day-to- 

167 


1: 


i 


?.:J| 


-^ 


*  i:    'i    1 


g  ;:! 


1 1' Hi 


/    !  tt*i 


>^ 


■•^» 


;  1! 

1  ^1? 


:  ii. 


.:;' 


ii  li 


» 


REPULSE  ON  LAKE  GEORGE    [1757 

day  journal  of  dreary  banishment  among  the  Acadian 
forests,  gives  amusing  accounts  of  the  strenuous 
eflforts  at  festivals  which  the  feasts  of  St.  George 
St.  Andrew,  and  St.  Patrick,  to  say  nothing  of  birth- 
days, called  forth  among  the  soldiers.  At  Fort 
William  Henry  the  Irish  saint  had  been  done  full 
justice  to  the  day  before  in  copious  libations  of  rum, 
and  the  gallant  colonial  rangers  having  as  yet  no 
Fourth  of  July  to  their  credit,  patronized  indis- 
criminately the  festal  days  of  their  British  brothers 
in  arms. 

The  French  were  just  a  day  too  late  to  gain 
what  advantage  might  have  accrued  from  any  laxity 
after  such  festivities,  and  were  received  in  the  dark- 
ness by  a  shower  of  grape  and  roundshot  from  the 
garrison,  who  had  heard  the  sounds  of  their  approach 
while  yet  upon  the  ice.  Vaudreuil  had  not  only  given 
his  brother  the  command,  but  had  put  his  notorious 
predilections  into  practice  and  pinned  his  faith  on 
his  favourite  Canadians  and  Indians.  Admirable  in 
defence  and  in  the  woods,  they  now  showed  their 
incapacity  for  a  front  attack  on  ramparts  manned 
by  determined  men.  Two  hundred  and  seventy- 
four  regulars  of  the  44th  regiment  and  72  rangers 
kept  this  force  of  1,600  men  at  bay  for  five  days. 
They  were  offered  lenient  terms  of  surrender, 
and  at  the  same  time  virtually  assured  of  massacre 
by  the  Indians  in  the  event  of  refusal.  But  these 
gallant  men,  though  neither  well  found  nor  very 
well  protected,  refused  the  overture  with  scorn.  It 
is  significant,  too,  that  these  soldiers  were  the  re- 
mains of  one  of  Braddock's  broken  regiments,  while 
the  most  active  of  Bigaud's  officers  in  attack  was 
Dumas,  the  hero  of  that  fatal  field.    This  time  the  ' 


1757] 


A  NOTABLE   DIARIST 


tables  were  turned,  and  the  French  many  fell  back  re- 
pulsed before  the  British  few,  not  ho^  -ever  before  they 
had  succeeded  in  burning  the  detached  out-buildings 
round  the  fort  and  a  considerable  number  of  sloops, 
batteaux,  and  whale-boats  that  lay  ready  or  in  course 
of  construction  for  the  operations  of  the  coming 
season.  On  March  24th  the  whole  French  force 
disappeared  down  the  lake  amid  a  blinding  snow- 
storm, having  cost  their  Government  fifty  thousand 
livres,  and  inflicted  a  loss  equal  to  perhaps  a  tenth  of 
that  amount.  Eyre  and  his  brave  garrison  marched 
out  with  their  numerous  sick  a  few  days  later,  and 
were  duly  replaced  by  five  companies  of  the  35th, 
under  Monroe,  whose  name  is  indelibly  associated 
with  the  more  memorable  events  that  in  the  coming 
summer  made  the  spot  famous  in  history  for  all  time 
to  come. 

It  was  in  this  same  month  of  March,  1757,  that 
the  gallant  Knox  commenced,  as  a  lieutenant,  that 
invaluable  journal  which  he  closed  four  years  later 
as  a  major  at  the  fall  of  Montreal.  He  was  now  at 
Athenry  in  charge  of  a  detachment  of  the  43rd 
regiment,  whose  headquarters  were  in  Galway.  They 
were  ordered  to  Cork,  as  part  of  the  force  of  8,000 
men  which  Parliament  had  recently  voted  for 
Loudon's  support.  Six  other  regiments  from  various 
Irish  stations  were  gathering  at  the  western  sea- 
port, namely,  the  second  battalion  of  the  1st  Royals,  a 
thousand  strong,  together  with  the  17th,  27th,  28th, 
46th,  and  the  55th,  each  mustering  some  seven 
hundred  effective  men.  By  the  end  of  March  they 
were  all  collected,  and  lay  awaiting  the  fleet  from 
England  that  was  to  convey  them  to  America,  their 
actual  destination — namely,  Halifax — being  not  yet 

169 


4t 


i 


I 


r  |j  ,<- 


'! 


CORK  HOSPITALITY. 


[1767 


F^     i 


(/^ 


•    I    i 


i 


if 


made  known.     Cork,  at  the  present  day,  does  not 
suggest  itself  as  the  port  most  likely  to  treat  an 
Imperial  armament  destined  for  foreign  service  with 
special  enthusiasm  or  an  excess  of  practical  sympathy, 
But  Knox,  who    was   a   Scotsman,    cannot  express 
sufficient  admiration  for  its  attitude  during  the  six 
or  seven  weeks  in  which  the  city  swarmed  with  sol- 
diers and  sailors.     It  was  one  of   cordial  good  will 
and  generous  elffort.     There  were  neither  the  riots 
nor  brawls  common  in  his  experience  to  the  influx 
of  a  large  force  into  a  big  town.      Instead  of  rais- 
ing the  price  of  necessaries  and  lodgings  on  the  poor 
soldier,  under  such  great  demand,  as  was  the  common 
custom,  the  citizens  gave  him  of  their  best  at  the 
lowest  prices,  while  large  subscriptions  were   raised 
for  the  support  of  the  women  and  children  he  left 
behind  him.     One  is  accustomed  to  think  a  some- 
what brutal  indifference  in  matters  of  this  sort  was 
characteristic  of  the  Hogarthian  period,  and  Knox's 
account  of  Cork  at  a  trying  period  is  pleasant  read- 
ing.    There  were  no  meetings,  such  as  we  now  see, 
to  vote  success  to  the  scalping  knives  of  the  She- 
wanoes  and  Pottawattamies.     Even  if  the  blessings 
of  free  speech  had  been  then  sufficiently  developed, 
the  native  sense  of  humour  was  still  too  strong  to 
have  tolerated  in  the  alderman  of  the  day  such  dole- 
ful  exhibitions  of  clumsy  malice.     Sympathy  with 
France,  as  a  Catholic  power,  and  indeed,  for  more 
solid  reasons,  might  reasonably  have  been  looked  for 
in  Cork  at  such  a  time,  but  Knox  at  least  tells  us 
of  no  such  discordant    notes.      On  April   25th  the 
expected  fleet  of  warships  and  transports  appeared 
off  the  Old  Head  of  Kinsale,  and  on  the  following 

170 


"   ! 


J 


1757]   BRITISH  EXPEDITION  SAILS 

day  anchored  in  Cork  Harbour.  There  were  fifteen 
battleships  carrying  nearly  a  thousand  guns,  and 
fifty  transports,  averaging  some  two  hundred  and 
fifty  tons  apiece,  for  conveying  the  troops,  besides 
numerous  other  craft  laden  with  stores,  siege  guns, 
and  ammunition.  It  may  be  worth  noting  too,  that 
a  hospital  ship  of  five  hundred  tons  accompanied  the 
fleet.  The  force  embarked  was  in  all  something 
under  six  thousand  men. 

It  required  about  six  transports  to  carry  a  regi- 
ment, giving^  therefore,  something  over  a  hundred 
men,  besides  officers  and  a  few  women  and  children, 
to  every  vessel,  while  each  one  carried  a  pennon 
to  distinguish  the  regiment  it  was  helping  to  convey. 
The  Admiral  in  command  was  Holborne,  with  Com- 
modore Holmes  as  second.  The  long  delay  in  reach- 
ing Cork  had  been  caused  by  adverse  winds,  and  it 
was  this,  in  great  part,  and  not  mere  official  dilatori- 
ness,  as  is  sometimes  said,  that  proved  the  eventual 
failure  of  the  enterprise.  French  fleets,  it  is  true, 
had  got  out  promptly  and  were  already  across. 
But  they  were  unhampered  by  convoys,  nor  does  it 
follow  that  the  conditions  of  sailing  from  the  Bay 
of  Biscay  were  always  suitable  to  getting  out  of  the 
Solent. 

It  was  the  eighth  of  May  when  the  British  fleet, 
numbering  upwards  of  a  hundred  ships,  with  their 
white  sails  filled  by  a  favouring  wind,  swarmed 
out  into  the  open  sea.  Here  three  more  battleships 
and  a  frigate  put  in  an  appearance,  owing  to  a 
report  that  a  large  French  fleet  intended  to  inter- 
cept Holborne,  and  there  was  good  ground  for  the 
rumour. 

Knox  gives  us  a  vivid  picture  of  life  on  one  of  these 

171 


I 


♦  *  -»"•-  ^ ..  .«*  ^-  ••— » 


-  «—>•-••••  * 


•,u 


k«  • 


^ 


TRANSPORT  OF  THE  OLDEN  TIME  [1757 

small  transports  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago.  They 
soon  experienced  bad  weather,  and  their  ship  was 
separated  from  the  fleet  more  than  once,  though 
they  succeeded  in  finding  it  again.  When  a  fortnight 
out,  howevor,  they  lost  it  altogether,  and  were  left 
henceforward  to  their  own  devices.  What  those  of 
the  skipper  were  likely  to  be  soon  became  unmis- 
takable. Indeed,  Knox  and  his  companions  had 
shrewd  suspicions  that,  if  this  worthy  mariner  had 
not  actually  contrived  their  isolation,  he  was  in  no 
way  depressed  by  it.  On  their  urgent  demands  and 
with  some  reluctance  he  opened  his  secret  orders, 
which  proved  Halifax  to  be  their  destination,  as  was 
generally  suspected.  The  course  he  proceeded  to 
steer,  however,  struck  even  infantry  officers  as  hav- 
ing a  strangely  southern  bias  about  it  for  the  coast 
of  Nova  Scotia.  It  was  more  than  suspected  that 
he  had  letters  of  marque,  for  privateering  was  just 
then  immensely  profitable.  The  skipper's  cabin, 
too,  bristled  with  cutlasses  and  firearms;  the  ship 
mounted  seven  guns,  and  with  a  force  of  a  hundred 
soldiers  besides  his  crew  on  board,  the  temptation  to 
get  into  the  track  of  merchant  vessels  and  engage  in 
a  little  profitable  diversion  seems  to  have  proved 
altogether  too  strong. 

They  sighted  several  ships,  and  each  time  the 
decks  were  cleared  for  action,  but  in  every  case 
a  closer  inspcition  proved  the  hoped-for  i;rize  or 
suspected  enemy  to  be  a  neutral  or  a  friend.  One 
really  humorous  encounter  is  related.  A  Massa- 
chusetts privateer  approached  our  bellicose  trans- 
port in  threatening  fashion,  the  only  sign  of  her 
nationality  being  the  apparently  convincing  one  of 
the  white  uniforms  and  pointed  hats  worn  by  French 

172 


!.,( 


// 


1757]        LIFE  ON  THE  ATLANTIC 

soldiers,  plainly  discernible  upon  her  decks.  Having 
cleared  for  an  encounter  that  looked  remarkably  un- 
promising for  Knox  and  his  friends,  the  true  nationality 
of  the  stranger  was  disclosed,  and  the  mystery  of  the 
French  uniforms  was  solved  by  means  of  a  speaking 
trumpet.  They  belonged,  in  fact,  to  a  number  of 
French  prisoners  whom  the  Yankee  had  captured  with 
a  French  ship.  She,  on  her  part,  had  made  pre- 
cisely the  same  mistake  in  regard  to  the  British 
transport.  It  seems  to  have  been  an  economical 
custom  of  that  day  to  make  the  soldiers  wear  their 
uniforms  inside-out  on  board  ship,  and  those  of  the 
43rd  having  white  linings,  it  gave  them  all  the  ap- 
pearance, at  a  distance,  of  French  troops.  On  their 
mutual  errors  being  discovered,  the  officers  politely 
asked  the  captain  of  the  privateer  to  dinner, 
but  the  amenities  were  extended  even  to  the  ships 
themselves,  which  got  so  fast  locked  together  that  for 
a  short  time  they  were  in  a  somewhat  serious  pre- 
dicament. The  Yankee  skipper,  says  Knox,  went 
down  on  his  knees  upon  the  deck  and  called  aloud 
to  Heaven,  while  his  British  confrere  jumped  into' 
the  rigging  and  soundly  cursed  both  crews  at  the  top 
of  his  voice  till  they  had  effected  a  separation — much 
the  surest  method,  according  to  our  diarist,  of  getting 
the  job  done.  Another  little  incident  is,  I  think, 
worth  relating.  Though  Divine  service  was  puncti- 
liously performed  on  the  deck  of  the  transport,  the 
first  mate  was  accustomed  to  introduce  a  most 
scandalous  novelty  into  the  ritual.  No  one,  we  are 
told,  was  louder  or  more  devout  in  the  responses 
than  this  excellent  man;  but  the  ship  had  to  be 
sailed,  and  he  had  to  sail  her.  In  the  usual  course  of 
business,  therefore,  it  became  necessary  for  him  to 

173 


5 


Ml' 


Mfl 


i 


1      ^        >■ 


1 


ll, 


'i         ■ 


H 


%\ 


'■'?.) 


hii 


%       f\ 


r-) 


:  ^ 


HUMOURS  OF  THE    VOYAGE    [1757 

lift  his  eyes  from  his  devotions  and  from  time  to 
time  shout  directions  to  the  sailors  on  duty.  These 
he  gave  with  no  mitigation  whatever  of  his  week- 
day phraseology,  returning  in  the  ifiost  imperturb- 
able fashion  after  each  discharge  to  his  responses. 
It  was  not  easy,  says  Knox,  for  the  soldiers  to  pre- 
serve their  decorum,  particularly  if  one  of  the  mate's 
eloquent  broadsides  were  intermingled  with  the  re- 
sponses of  the  latter  half  of  the  Litany.  Fogs  and 
icebergs,  whales,  dolphins,  and  "  grampuses,"  and  all 
the  wonders  of  the  deep,  were  encountered  and 
duly  chronicled  by  this  observant  soldier,  till  on 
June  30th  they  slipped  into  Halifax  harbour  the 
first  of  all  the  fleet.  There  they  found  Loudon  with 
his  troops  just  landed  from  New  York  by  Admiral 
Sir  Charles  Hardy,  and  hastened  on  shore  to  give 
him  such  news  as  they  could — which  was  little  enough 
— of  the  armament  he  was  so  anxiously  awaiting. 

Loudon,  of  a  truth,  whatever  his  shortcomings, 
had  passed  a  most  unpleasant  winter.  The  sense 
of  failure  rested  upon  him  as  upon  the  whole  British 
interest  in  America.  There  was  even  more  soreness 
than  usual,  too,  between  the  army  and  the  colonists, 
the  trouble  this  time  lying  in  the  much-vexed  ques- 
tion of  quarters.  Seeing  that  Loudon  and  his  soldiers 
were  employed  in  the  inunediate  interests  of  the 
colonies,  it  was  not  unreasonable  to  expect  their 
people  to  show  some  concern  for  the  comfort  of 
their  defenders.  Boston,  New  York,  and  Philadelphia 
were  naturally  selected  by  the  commander-in-chief 
for  the  winter  quarters  of  his  army.  But  the  first 
of  these  cities  showed  much  backwardness  in  pro- 
viding shelter,  while  the  two  last  were  still  more 
inhospitable  and  provided  none  at  all  till  they  were 

174 


I,  I 


1757]    DISPUTES  ABOUT  QUARTERS 

forced  to  by  threats  of  coercion.     Loudon  swore  that, 
if   New  York  would  not  house  the  troops  he   had 
placed  there,  he  would  compel  them  to  accommodate 
double  the  number.      The  men  were  suffering  and 
sickening  for  lack  of  shelter,  and  the  fierce  Northern 
winter  was  already  upon  them.     The  Assembly  at 
length  gave  in  as  regards  the  men,  but  held  out  in 
the  matter  of  the  officers.   Loudon  responded  by  send- 
ing half  a  dozen  of  the  latter    to  the  house  of  a 
prominent  townsman,  with  a  threat  of  sending  twelve 
if  he  declined  to  receive  them.      These  amenities 
were  not  conducive  to  good  feeling,  and  there  were  pro- 
bably faults  on  both  sides.     The  old  English  consti- 
tutional dislike  of  soldiers  and  a  standing  army  was 
in  the  blood  of  the  colonists,  and  the  comparatively 
rigid  habits  of  life  made  them  dread  the  easy  notions 
of  the  British  soldier  of  all  ranks.     Still,  without  the 
British  soldier  the  colonists  would  have  been  help- 
lessly exposed  at  this  time,  both  in  person  and  estate, 
to  their  active  enemies,  and  had  some  cause  to  be 
grateful.     True,  the  performances  of  the  army  had 
not  so  far  been  brilliant,  but  such  organization  and 
initiative  as  had  been  shown  was  due  in  the  main 
to  British  soldiers  and  British  money.     The  colonial 
militia,  according    to   Loudon,  had  an  airy  way  of 
simplifying  difficult    operations,   and    talked   glibly 
of   "  taking  Ticonderoga  "  or  "  marching  to  Canada." 
The  tendency  to  inflated  talk  is  part  of  the  atmo- 
sphere of  new  countries,  it  is  almost  natural  to  their 
life.     Any  one  who  has  lived  in  them  nowadays  can 
well  fancy  the  discourse  that  was  often  heard  around 
the  camp-fires  of  New    England    regiments    or    in 
blockhouses  on  the  frontiers  of  Virginia.     But  the 
colonies  had  so  far  shown  no  capacity  for  united  effort, 

175 


II 


i  I 


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I 
I 


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1 


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GREEDY  DUTCH  TRADERS      [1757 


I  'I 


'   ,1 


J: 


and  without  co-operation,  and  perhaps  even  with  it, 
Montcalm  with  his  veterans  and  his  mohile  Cana- 
dians would  have  swept  the  country  from  end  to 
end.  At  any  rate,  the  refusal  to  find  shelter  for 
their  defenders  was  singularly  churlish.  Philadelphia 
hastened  with  joy  to  make  the  dispute  another  cause  of 
wrangle  with  their  much-harried  Governor,  Hamilton, 
whose  duty  it  was  to  assist  Loudon  in  finding 
quarters  for  His  Majesty's  troops.  Philadelphia, 
however,  was  finally  settled  very  much  after  the 
fashion  of  New  York.  Another  cause  of  annoyance 
at  this  time  was  the  persistence  with  which  pro- 
visions of  all  sorts  were  secretly  sold  to  Canada.  In 
this  the  Dutch  of  the  Upper  Hudson  were  the  worst 
offenders.  The  greed  of  their  traders  had  been  a 
fruitful  source  of  trouble  with  the  friendly  Indians, 
and  now  they  were  active  in  supplying — though  by 
no  means  alone  in  doing  so — those  sinews  of  war 
which  Canada  needed  much  more  than  arms  and 
troops,  so  dismally  had  she  failed  in  the  primary 
objects  of  colonial  enterprise. 

On  Loudon,  however,  falls  the  onus  of  having 
recommended  for  this  season  the  Louisbourg  scheme. 
It  was  not  its  immediate  failure  which  redounds  to 
his  discredit  so  much  as  the  tactics  which  left  the 
northern  colonies  in  the  gravest  peril,  and  the 
western  frontiers  of  the  others  still  reeking  with 
Indian  ravage.  General  Webb,  with  Munro,  a  brave 
Scotch  colonel,  under  him,  had  been  left  with  three 
or  four  thousand,  for  the  most  part  raw  troops,  to 
hold  the  frontier  against  the  able  Montcalm  and  the 
whole  power  of  Canada,  while  the  great  effort  of 
the  year,  occupying  a  powerful  army  and  a  powerfi/1 
fleet,  spent  itself  on  the  shores  of  Nova  Scotia,  and 

176 


17.57]    HOSPITALITY  OF  MONTCALM 


never  even  saw  the  first  object  of  its  attack.  The 
important  conflict  of  the  season  was  reserved  for  the 
remnant  Loudon  had  left  behind  him,  and  resulted  in 
inevitable  disaster.  For  while  he  was  occupying  a 
force  of  nearly  ten  thousand  regular  troops  in  sham 
fights,  and  cultivating  vegetables  where  Halifax  now 
spreads  its  streets  and  wharves,  Fort  William  Henry- 
succumbed  to  Montcalm  under  circumstances  of  such 
horror  that  its  capture  has  rung  down  the  ages 
in  reams  of  prose  and  verse. 

Montcalm,  too,  in  Canada,  had  his  winter  troubles. 
His  oncers,  for  one  thing,  were  continually  falling 
victims  to  the  charms  of  the  Canadian  ladies,  which 
seem,  according  to  all  contemporary  accounts,  to  have 
been  more  adapted  for  husband  catching  than  for 
intellectual  edification.  What  chiefly  annoyed  him 
was  that  most  of  these  girls  were  comparatively 
dowerless,  a  sufficiently  grievous  sin  in  the  eyes  of  a 
Frenchman  who  was  also  the  temporary  father  of  a 
large  military  family.  Yaudreuil,  it  seems,  secretly 
encouraged  these  matches,  not  merely  to  spite  Mont- 
calm, but  with  an  eye  to  possible  settlers  for  his 
beloved  Canada.  Gambling,  too,  was  a  passion  with 
the  wealthy  clique  who  lived  by  plundering  the 
country,  and  the  impecunious  young  nobles  who 
swarmed  in  Montcalm's  French  regiments  took  to 
the  sport  like  ducks  to  water  in  the  monotony  of 
their  ice-bound  quarters  at  Quebec  and  Montreal. 
Balls,  dinners,  and  receptions,  though  on  a  limited 
scale,  and  attended  by  more  or  loss  the  same  circle 
of  guests,  went  merrily  on.  Montcalm  entertained 
freely,  to  the  detriment  of  his  already  encumbered 
estate  and  his  ten  children,  not  so  much  from 
inclination,    apparently,   as  from  a  sense  of   duty* 

177  N 


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1 


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#' 


SOLDIERS  AND  COLONISTS     [1757 

In  his  letters  to  his  wife  and  mother  he  jokes  about 
his  growing  debts,  and  aUudes  with  humorous  des- 
pair  to  the  capture  by  British  ships  of  certain  table 
luxuries  consigned  to  him  by  their  loving  hands. 
Nor  did  the  French  soldiers  and  the  Canadians  outside 
the  small  social  circles  of  the  capital  coalesce  much 
better  than  did  the  British  regulars  with  their  colonial 
allies.  Indeed,  such  jealousies  were,  aye  and  still 
are,  inevitable,  though  greatly  softened  and  modified 
by  altered  conditions.  No  intelligent  colonist,  or 
Englishman  who  has  lived  in  colonies  would  regard 
this  statement  as  anything  but  a  familiar  truism. 
The  difficulty  of  the  home-staying,  or  even  globe- 
trotting Briton,  is  to  realize  the  colonial's  point  of 
view,  or  that  Englishmen  and  colonial-born  English- 
men, as  a  class,  are  apt  to  jar  upon  each  other  till 
time  and  intercourse  have  rubbed  off  the  angles, 
which,  by  the  way,  they  sometimes  fail  to  do.  The 
exuberant  and  splendid  loyalty  of  our  colonies,  at 
this  moment  above  all,  obscures  these  smaller  matters. 
They  are  not  questions  for  high  politics  or  public 
speeches,  but  of  everyday  life.  One  would  call  them 
unimportant,  but  for  the  fact  that  they  have  been  the 
unsuspected  cause  of  much  that  is  not  unimportant. 
How  much  greater,  then,  in  most  respects,  must  have 
been  the  lack  of  sympathy  in  these  old  days  between 
the  average  individual  of  either  stock. 

It  is  often  said,  though  never,  I  think,  by  serious 
students  of  the  period,  that  Washington  was  prac- 
tically an  English  gentleman  living  in  Virginia.  The 
punctiliousness  in  manner  and  uniformity  in  dress 
among  people  of  respectable  position  at  that  day, 
lends,  perhaps,  some  colour  to  this.  But  Washington, 
the  Virginia  planter,  would  have  been  found  to  differ 

178 


1757] 


BRITISH  COLONISTS 


#11 


in  ca49t  of  mind  and  thought  very  materially  from  his 
prototype,  an  English  country  squire ;  and  Washing- 
ton belonged  to  the  class  who  remained  nearest  in 
such  matters  to  the  traditions  of  the  mother  country. 
The  American  colonies,  we  must  remember,  were  as 
old  as  Australia  will  be  half  a  century  hence.     There 
was  no  going  backwards  and  forwards  across   the 
Atlantic  in  any  way  comparable  to  what  the   last 
fifty  years  has  witnessed.     Immigration,  if  we  except 
waves  like  that  of  the  Scotch-Irish  and  Germans  to 
certain    localities,  had    been  for  some  generations 
inconsiderable,  and  the  growth  of  the  country  had 
come  chiefly  from  within.    To  a  not  unconunon  state- 
ment of  English  writers  that  the  American  colonists 
in  the  eighteenth  century  were  merely  Britons  living 
in  America  I  will  venture,  with  some  confidence,  the 
retort  that  they  were  nothing  of  the  kind,  but,  on  the 
contrary,  had  developed  strong  local  characteristics, 
and  after  their  various  fashions  had  become  distinct 
communities.     Indeed,  with  such  a  lapse  of  time  and 
such  changed  conditions  of  life,  how  could  it  have  been 
otherwise?    If  any  proof,  however,  were  wanting, 
there  is  plenty  of  it  in  the  books  of  travels  and  the 
daily  journals  of  the  period.     Tolerance  of  such  de- 
parture from  the  manners  and  customs  they  were 
used  to  by  English-speaking  British  subjects,  could 
hardly  be  looked  for  in  the  average  officer  of  that 
day,  who,  to  say  truth,  was  not  distinguished  either 
for  adaptability  or  breadth  of  understanding.     More- 
over, such  liberality  as  he  possessed  was  no  doubt  at 
times  somewhat  sorely  tried ;  but  there  were  brilliant 
exceptions  to  this  rule  among  the  British  officers,  and 
we  shall  come  across  one  or  two  of  them  in  the  course 
of  our  story, 

179 


Ii  1- 
i,: 


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■A':- 


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i  ! 


LOUDON  SAILS  FOR  HALIFAX  [1757 

As  the  spring  advanced,  Loudon  had  concentrated 
all  his  troops  at  New  York  in  preparation  for  their 
removal  to  Halifax.     His  information  from  England 
had  been  scanty,  but  his  immediate  business  was  to 
get  to  Nova  Scotia  and  there  await  the  reinforcements 
he  had  been  told  to  count  upon.    But  if  his  home  news 
had  been  vague,  he  knew  of  a  certainty  that  three 
strong  French  squadrons,  with  Louisbourg  as  their 
ultimate  destination,  were  already  on  the  coast,  while 
he  had  only  Admiral  Sir  Charles  Hardy,  with  a  weak 
squadron,  to  serve  as  escort  to  his  own  transports. 
In  brief,  if  a  French  fleet  caught  him  in  the  open  sea, 
he  was  ruined.      Secrecy  was  now  Loudon's  only 
chance,  so  he  laid  an  embargo  on  the  shipping  of  all 
colonial  ports,  with  a  view  to  preventing  news  of  his 
movements  getting  abroad.     This  move  was  neces- 
sary, but  naturally  irritating.     He  then  lingered  on, 
hoping  for  tidings  of  Holbome's  fleet,  but  none  came. 
To  move  without  such  a  security  seemed,  as  in  fact  it 
was,  a  prodigious  risk.     But  in  the  meanwhile  May 
had  passed    away  and  June  had  half  gone.      His 
sailors  were  freely  deserting  in  order  to  join  priva- 
teers, whose  profits  just  now  were  proving  an  irre- 
sistible temptation,  and  he  made  a  curious  effort  to 
recover  some  of  these  deserters  by  drawing  a  cordon 
of  bayonets  round  the  whole  town,  and  concentrating 
to  a  centre.    Loudon  and  the  admiral  at  length  made 
up  their  minds  they  must  risk  both  their  men  and 
their  ships,  and  on  June  20th  they  sailed  out  of  New 
York  Harbour.     Fortune,  however,  favoured  them, 
the  French  never  guessing  how  great  a  prize  lay 
within  their  grasp,  and  by  the  30th  of  the  month 
they  were  safe  in  Halifax,  and  in  time  enough  to 
receive   Holborne   and   his  still  more  tardy  flotilla, 
which  arrived  on  July  9th.  ^ 

180 


■  ! 


1757] 


A  FUTILE  EXPEDITION 


Loudon  had  now  some  eleven  thousand  men,  nearly- 
all  regular  troops.  He  was  greeted  by  the  news  that 
there  were  assembled  behind  the  formidable  ramparts 
and  batteries  of  Louisbourg  seven  thousand  French 
soldiers,  two-thirds  of  whom  were  regulars,  in 
addition  to  some  fifteen  hundred  Indians  ;  while  in  the 
almost  land-locked  harbour  lay  twenty-two  ships  of 
the  line  and  three  frigates,  carrying  nearly  fourteen 
hundred  guns.  Louisbourg  stood  alone  amid  the  fogs 
of  the  northern  seas,  upon  Cape  Breton,  which,  as  I 
have  said,  was  an  almost  barren  island,  just  severed  by 
a  narrow  channel  from  the  unsettled  regions  of  Nova 
Scotia.  It  was  a  great  naval  station,  however,  as  well 
as  an  important  town  for  the  period,  and  was  of  vital 
import  to  the  French.  It  was  garrisoned  direct  from 
France,  and  was  practically  out  of  touch  with  Mont- 
calm and  Canada.  Later  on  we  shall  be  before  its 
walls,  and  have  much  to  say  about  it,  so  will  here 
content  ourselves  with  remarking  that  these  same 
fortifications,  with  seven  thousand  men  behind  them, 
and  an  overpowering  fleet  outside,  were  adjudged  by 
Loudon  and  a  council  of  war  to  be  impregnable  to 
the  force  at  their  disposal.  So  the  general,  after 
having  spent  six  weeks  at  Halifax,  re-embarked  on 
August  16th,  with  seven  of  his  regular  battalions 
and  his  provincials,  and  sailed  for  New  York,  leaving 
the  27th,  28th,  43rd,  and  46th  regiments  to  garrison 
Nova  Scotia. 

Those  that  he  took  back  with  him  were  the  17th, 
22nd,  42nd,  44th,  48th,  55th,  and  two  battalions  of  the 
newly  raised  Royal  Americans.  Loudon,  in  short, 
performed  upon  the  ocean  a  very  similar  manoeuvre 
to  that  executed,  according  to  the  familiar  rhyme, 
by  the  "  noble  Duke  of  York "  upon  the  hill.     He 

181 


il 


If     I: 


THE  ARMY  AT  HALIFAX       [1757 

carried  his  force,  that  is  to  say,  to  Nova  Scotia,  and 
brought  it  back  again  without  even  firing  a  shot  or 
seeing  an  enemy.  The  French  fleet,  by  its  prompt- 
ness in  crossing  the  Atlantic,  had  saved  the  situation ; 
while  the  British  Government,  by  its  dilatoriness, 
due  in  part  to  weather,  had  been  the  chief  sinner. 
Loudon,  though  devoid  of  genius,  can  hardly  be 
blamed  for  this  fiasco.  His  crime  was  rather  in 
initiating  an  expedition  which  stripped  the  colonies 
of  their  chief  military  strength  and  left  vital  points 
exposed.  He  received  his  punishment  before  he 
reached  New  York,  for  while  still  on  the  sea  the 
news  was  brought  out  to  him  that  Fort  William 
Henry  had  fallen.  Great  ridicule  has  been  cast  on 
Loudon  for  his  Louisbourg  failure.  A  colonial  wag 
had  already  likened  him  to  the  figure  of  St.  George 
upon  a  tavern  sign — always  in  a  hurry,  but  never 
getting  forward.  He  had  certainly  no  genius  for 
war,  and  was  a  depressing,  unenterprising  person, 
but  neither  his  delay  at  New  York  or  Halifax  were 
his  fault.  At  the  latter  place,  in  order  to  occupy  the 
large  body  of  troops  there  collected,  he  exercised  them 
continually  in  drills  and  sham  fights — an  admirable 
method,  one  might  well  suppose,  for  improving  their 
discipline  and  keeping  them  away  from  rum  and  out 
of  mischief.  He  also  occupied  them  in  the  planting 
of  vegetables,  with  a  view  more  especially  to  the 
prospective  sick  and  wounded;  and  seeing  that  the 
lack  of  these  very  things  was  a  common  cause  of 
scurvy  and  an  indirect  one  of  drunkenness,  it  is  not 
easy  to  understand  the  jibes  and  taunts  cast  in  Lou- 
don's teeth  for  employing  the  leisure  of  his  none  too 
well  disciplined  army  in  these  useful  and  profitable 
pursuits.      General  Hopson,  who   brought  out   the 

182 


v1 


1767]     BRITISH  FLEET  DISPERSED 

division  from  England,  was  second  in  command  to 
Loudon  at  this  time.  Sir  Charles  Hay  was  third, 
the  same  officer  who  made  the  famous  request  at 
Fontenoy  that  the  French  Guards  should  fire  first. 
He  must  have  possessed  some  vein  of  eccentricity, 
for  he  made  himself  so  conspicuous  for  open  ridicule 
of  Loudon's  "  sham  fights  and  cabbage  planting  " — in 
which  he  declared  the  nation's  money  was  squandered 
— that  he  was  placed  under  arrest,  but  died  before  his 
trial.  With  this  same  division,  too,  there  came  to 
America  another  titled  officer  whose  character  was 
also  out  of  the  common  run,  though  of  a  loftier  and 
very  different  type,  and,  in  like  manner,  was  doomd 
to  an  early  death.  This  was  the  young  Lord  Howe, 
of  whom  we  shall  hear  anon. 

Nor  was  it  only  failure  in  a  military  sense  that 
marked  this  Nova  Scotia  enterprise,  but  the  naval 
force  engaged  in  it  met  with  something  more  than 
failure,  though,  like  the  army,  it  exchanged  no  shot 
with  the  enemy.  For  Holborne,  being  reinforced  on 
the  departure  of  Loudon,  sailed  up  to  Louisbourg  and 
challenged  the  French  fleet  to  come  out  and  fight 
him.  La  Motte,  the  admiral,  felt  no  call  to  take 
such  unprofitable  risks,  nor  was  it  his  duty.  So 
Holborne,  like  Loudon,  proceeded  to  sail  home  again. 
But  he  was  not  so  fortunate  as  the  general,  for  a 
hurricane  struck  him  off  that  iron-bound  and  desolate 
coast,  and  drove  him  with  irresistible  fury  against 
its  cruel,  surf-lashed  headlands.  One  ship,  with 
nearly  all  its  crew,  foundered  on  the  rocks  ;  the  re^t 
were  saved  within  an  ace  of  destruction  by  a  timely 
change  of  wind.  Eleven  lost  all  their  masts,  others 
all  their  cannon ;  and  the  cripples  found  their  way 
eventually,  as  best  they  could,  into  the  various  North 

183 


1 ) 


i 


t 


MONTCALM'S  OPPORTUNITY    [1757 


■t 


''  II 


American    harbours,   La  Motte,   happily  for  them, 
remaining  in  ignorance  of  their  plight. 

When  Montcalm  discovered  that  Loudon  was  really 
withdrawing  the  larger  and  the  better  part  of  his 
army  from  the  continent,  his  joy  was  hardly  greater 
than  his  surprise,  for  he  could  now  strike  with  his 
whole  force  at  the  feeble  garrisons  on  the  New  York 
frontier.  He  recognised,  of  course,  that  an  attack  on 
Quebec  was  the  ultimate  intention  of  the  Louisbourg 
force,  but  Louisbourg  was  not  an  Oswego  or  a  William 
Henry — it  was  an  embattled  town  of  the  first  class, 
strongly  garrisoned;  and  no  enemy  would  dare  to 
move  up  the  St.  Lawrence  and  leave  it  uncaptured 
in  his  rear.  If  Quebec  should,  peradventure,  be 
threatened  in  the  autumn,  Montcalm  could  fall  back 
to  Lake  Champlain  in  ample  time  for  its  protection. 
He  might,  indeed,  have  been  pardoned  for  deeming 
it  more  probable  that  he  and  his  Frenchmen  would 
be  descending  the  Hudson  on  New  York  enriched 
with  the  plunder  of  Albany.  But  Montcalm,  too,  like 
Loudon,  had  to  eatihis  heart  out  waiting  for  an  Atlantic 
fleet.  It  was  not  men,  however,  that  the  French  com- 
mander waited  for,  but  stores  and  provisions,  whose 
scarcity  was  the  perennial  curse  of  Canadian  military 
enterprise.  Nor  was  it  in  this  case  lack  of  human 
foresight  or  a  prevalence  of  western  winds  that  kept 
Montcalm  impotently  chafing  till  the  close  of  spring, 
but  the  inevitable  ice-floes  that  impede  navigation 
on  the  St.  Lawrence.  Throughout  the  whole  winter 
Indians  had  been  gathering  at  Montreal  from  all  parts 
of  the  west  and  north-west,  eating  French  bullocks  and 
drinking  French  brandy,  till  their  hosts — especially 
the  regular  officers  among  them — seriously  doubted  if 
their  tomahawks  were  worth  the  price  in  money  and 

184 


/, 


II 


1757]  MONTCALM  AND  HIS  INDIANS 

annoyance  paid  for  them.     Unlike  the  semi-civilized 
and   so-called  Christian  Indians  of  the   east,   these 
others  were  all  heathens,  all  cannihals,  all  naked, 
and  armed  only  with  bow  and  arrow ;  though,  for 
that  matter,  in  the  days  of  muzzle-loaders  used  at 
short  ranges  in  the  forest,  the  silent,  rapidly  fired 
arrow  was  not  to  be  despised.    The  st'   y  of  Oswego 
and  the  fame  of  Montcalm  had  spread  to  the  furthest 
west.    The  painted  and  be-feathered  orators  from 
the  shores  of  Lake  Superior  and  the  prairies  of  the 
Illinois  professed   surprise  at  the  pale-faced  hero's 
scanty  inches.     They  expected  to  find  the  head  of  so 
great  a  warrior  buried  in  the  clouds,  but  with  true 
Indian  breeding  they  hastened  to  declare  that  his 
stature  was  quite  atoned  for  by  the  lightning  of  his 
eye.    Montcalm  was  terribly  bored  by  the  endless  cere- 
monies necessary  for  retaining  their  regard.     He  had 
no  natural  turn  for  Indian  diplomacy,  like  Johnson, 
but  endured  it  from  a  sense  of  duty  with  heroic 
fortitude,  and  proved,  in  fact,  a  remarkable  success. 
Bougainville  took  some  of  the  physical  labour  off 
his  hands,  and  humorously  relates  how  he  sung  the 
war  song  in  solo  fashion  for  an  indefinite  period,  re- 
peating in  endless  monotone  that  he  would  "  trample 
the  English  under  his  feet."    The  Mission  Indians,  too, 
under  the  influence  of  their  priests,  were  gathering 
in    full    strength.      The    orgies    of    these    so-called 
Christians  were  as  wild  as  if  they  had  never  so  much 
as  set  eyes  upon  the  cross.    They  went  clad,  it  is  true, 
but  they  dyed  their  clothes  instead  of  their  naked 
bodies,  while  their  faces  grinned  hideously  through 
thick  layers  of  red  and  yellow  and  green  paint,  smeared 
on  with  grease  and  soot.    All  alike  wore  the  tufted 
scalp-lock  on  their  shaven  heads,  decorated  with  nod- 

185 


S-f 


i 


I 


y' 


i 


.If 


THE  FRENCH  PREPARATIONS  [1757 

ding  plumes  of  feathers ;  while  heavy  rings  dragged 
their  ears  down  on  to  their  shoulders.  A  gorget 
encircled  their  neck,  and  a  profusely  ornamented  belt 
their  waist,  whence  hung  the  tomahawk  and  the 
scalping  knife.  The  chief  entertainment  at  their 
feasts  may  be  described  as  boasting  competitions,  in 
which  one  performer  at  a  time,  striding  up  and  down 
the  line  with  a  gory  bullock's  head  in  his  hand, 
exhausted  the  whole  Indian  vocabulary  in  describing 
the  feats  of  valour  he  had  performed,  and  would 
perform  again.  It  is  probable  that  the  boastful 
language  of  the  Canadians,  which  so  much  amused 
the  French  officers,  was  a  sort  of  unconscious 
imitation  of  the  Indian  habit.  Indeed,  its  influence 
was  not  confined  to  Canada,  but  coloured  the  elo- 
quence of  the  Alleghany  borderer  for  several  gener- 
ations, and  perhaps  is  not  yet  dead ! 

The  store-ships  arrived  in  due  course  from 
France,  but  it  was  the  middle  of  July  before 
Montcalm  had  collected  all  his  forces,  Indians, 
regulars,  and  Canadians,  amounting  to  nearly  8,000 
men,  at  Fort  Carillon,  better  known  in  history  as 
Ticonderoga.  Preparations  for  the  coming  attack 
on  Fort  William  Henry  and  the  British  frontier 
had  been  proceeding  here  this  long  time,  and  the 
scene,  in  this  romantic  solitude  of  lake,  mountain, 
and  forest,  was  a  busy  one.  Since  the  melting  of 
the  ice  in  April,  Lake  Champlain  had  been  alive 
with  fleets  of  boats  and  batteaux  and  canoes,  carry- 
ing men  and  material  of  all  sorts  to  the  narrows 
down  which  the  waters  of  Lake  George  came  leaping 
in  a  succession  of  shallow  rapids.  This  channel  was 
some  six  miles  in  length,  a  mile  only  at  either  end 
being  navigable.     The  rapid  portion  of  the  river  took 

186 


^^_^ 


1757]      THE  WESTERN  INDIANS 

a  wide  bend,  and  a  road  was  cut  through  the  woods  in 
a  straight  line  from  the  deep  water  which  flowed 
into  Lake  Champlain  at  one  end,  to  that  which  gave 
access  to  Lake  George  upon  the  other.  Across  this 
rough  three-mile  portage  the  entire  material,  boats 
included,  for  the  operation  on  the  upper  lake,  had  to 
be  laboriously  carried. 

By  the  end  of  July  everything  was  complete,  and 
the  whole  flotilla  was  launched  upon  Lake  George 
ready  for  a  start.  Unwary  scouting  parties  from  the 
English  forts  had  been  already  captured.  Scalps 
and  prisoners  had  stimulated  the  zeal  of  the  Indians, 
among  whom  no  less  than  forty  different  tribes 
were  represented.  From  the  far  regions  of  Michil- 
limackinak  and  the  still  remoter  shores  of  Lake 
Superior ;  from  the  oak  and  chestnut  forests 
beyond  Lake  Erie,  where  the  finest  farms  of  the 
fattest  province  of  Canada  now  thrive  among  a  net- 
work of  railways ;  from  the  deep  prairie  lands  of 
Michigan  and  Illinois  came  bands  of  howling  and 
painted  pagans  to  "  trample  the  English  under  their 
feet,"  to  drink  their  rum,  plunder  their  settlements, 
and  hang  their  scalps  around  their  belts,  or  nail 
them  on  their  wigwam  posts.  Independent  bands, 
too,  from  the  neighbouring  and  professedly  neutral 
Six  Nations  were  there,  and  even  from  the  harried 
borders  of  Pennsylvania  and  Virginia  sorae  warriors, 
red  to  the  shoulder  in  British  blood,  came  to  seek 
fresh  fields  of  spoil.  To  mention  Hurons,  Ojibways 
and  Ottawas,  lowas,  Winebagoes  and  Algonquins 
would  be  naming  but  a  few  of  them,  while  the  Aben- 
akis,  Micmacs,  and  the  Mission  Indians  were  there 
to  the  full  limit  of  their  fighting  strength. 

On  the  shores  of  Lake  George,  however,  before  the 

187 


^ 


I 


il 


li 


\^ 


S 


:  il 


Vf  \- 


'  i      V 


h-         5 


/■^   ■ 


't 


'  I- 


)1 


rt! 


V  >,^ 


MONTCALM  ON  LAKE  GEORGE  [1757 

final  departure,  Montcalm  had  to  submit  to  one  more 
solemn  function,  and  address,  with  simulated  passion, 
the  mass  of  hideous  and  painted  humanity  that  he  was 
obliged  to  call  his  children ;  and,  after  all,  if  he  had  but 
known  it,  he  had  far  better,  upon  this  occasion,  have 
been  without  a  single  man  of  them.  He  explained 
to  them  his  plans,  which  was  only  reasonable,  and 
then  launched  out  into  those  astoundingly  menda- 
cious periods  which,  according  to  the  code  of  the 
time,  were  looked  upon  as  entirely  venial.  He  said 
how  pleased  he  was  to  see  them — which  in  a  sense 
was  true  enough — and  then  proceeded  to  inform  them 
how  he  and  his  soldiers  had  been  especially  sent  by 
the  great  king,  Onantio,  to  protect  and  defend  them 
against  the  English.  When  his  voice  gave  out  and 
his  stock  of  backwoods  rhetoric  was  exhausted,  he 
presented  his  savage  allies  with  an  enormous  belt  of 
wampum,  and  possessed  his  soul  in  patience  while 
their  chiefs  replied  in  high-flown  and  ambiguous 
metaphor,  amid  the  solemn  gruntings  of  the  gaudy 
assemblage.  Another  whole  day  was  consumed  by 
the  savages  in  propitiating  their  several  deities,  the 
Mission  Indians  going  in  whole  bodies  to  confession, 
the  unconverted  warriors  hanging  dead  dogs  and  old 
leggings  on  trees  and  "  making  medicine,"  according 
to  each  man's  special  fancy.  The  last  day  of  July 
saw  the  surface  of  Lake  George  rufiQed  by  the  splash 
of  thousands  of  oar-blades  and  hundreds  of  Indian 
paddles.  Two  hundred  and  fifty  boats  were  there, 
carrying  five  thousand  men,  and  swarms  of  savages  in 
bark  canoes  glided  in  the  van.  The  cream  of  French 
Canadian  chivalry  was  here,  and  famous  regiments 
from  old  France,  with  officers  and  men  now  hardened 
by  American  campaigning,  flushed  with  former  vic- 

188 


naaeT  vic- 


1757]   THE  FRENCH  ASCEND  THE  LAKE 

tory,  and  conscious,  many  of  them,  that  war  here 
meant  something  more  than  a  great  and  bloody  game. 
The  battalions  of  La  Sarre,  Guienne  and  Languedoc, 
La  Beine,  Bearne,  and  Royal  Roussillon  were  all  with 
Montcalm,  and  only  as  yet  in  the  second  of  those 
five  years  of  war  and  hardship  which  were  to  close, 
for  them,  at  least,  in  a  defeat  only  less  glorious 
than  victory.  Provisions  for  some  weeks  had  been 
shipped ;  and  heavy  siege  guns,  mounted  on  platforms 
slung  between  boats  lashed  together,  brought  up  the 
rear  of  this  motley  armament.  Montcalm  had  not 
boat  accommodation  for  his  whole  army.  So  L^vis, 
with  Indian  guides  and  twenty-five  hundred  men,  was 
detailed  to  push  his  way,  as  best  he  could,  through  the 
trackless  forests  that  overhung  the  western  shores 
of  the  lake.  At  a  spot  some  twenty  miles  on,  and 
eight  short  of  Fort  William  Henry,  he  was  to  display 
three  fires  as  a  signal  of  his  whereabouts.  The  move- 
ment was  successful,  the  British  scouts  having  been 
all  captured  or  killed,  and  it  was  not  till  Montcalm's 
whole  force,  by  land  and  water,  had  arrived  within 
two  miles  of  the  English  fort  that  their  approach  was 
discovered. 

Nearly  all  the  available  force  for  resisting  the 
French  lay  in  the  two  forts  at  either  end  of  the 
fourteen-mile  carrying-place,  between  the  lake  and 
the  Hudson  river.  General  Webb,  now  commanding 
in  America,  was  in  Fort  Edward  at  the  latter  point ; 
while  Colonel  Monroe  was  in  charge  of  Fort  William 
Henry,  where  there  were  some  two  thousand  five 
hundred  men  of  various  corps,  namely,  six  hundred 
of  the  35th,  eight  hundred  of  a  Massachusetts  regi- 
ment, with  some  rangers,  and  five  hundred  militia 
from  the  Jerseys  and  New  York.    Webb  on  this  very 

189 


1 


.1 


19  w  "  [KM 


III 


,  (.' 


■      ii 


m 


ATTACK  ON  FORT  WILLIAM  HENRY  [1757 

day,  the  second  of  August,  had  reinforced  Monroe  to 
the  limit  of  his  ability,  having  no  more  than  six- 
teen hundred  indifferent  troops  now  left  with  him, 
and  a  weak  garrison  or  two  on  the  river  route  to 
Albany.  Fort  Edward,  too,  might  be  attacked  simul- 
taneously with  William  Henry,  and  that  by  another 
route,  namely,  the  long  stretch  of  water  running 
froni  Champlain  southwards  and  parallel  to  Lake 
George,  known  as  Wood  Creek. 

Fort  William  Henry  lay  close  upon  the  shore  of 
Lake  George.  It  was  square  in  shape,  with  corner 
bastions,  and  walls  of  hewn  logs  laid  as  cribs  and 
mied  in  with  heavy  gravel,  impregnable  to  rifle  fire 
or  small  artillery,  but  a  poor  defence  against  heavy 
cannon.  There  was  not  room  for  the  whole  force 
within  the  fort,  and  a  great  part  of  the  provincial 
troops  were  intrenched  on  some  rising  ground  six 
hundred  yards  away  with  marshes  upon  either  side. 
Montcalm  was  able  at  once  to  cut  off  the  whole  posi- 
tion from  either  retreat  or  succour,  by  sending  de 
L^vis  round  behind  it  with  three  thousand  men  to 
occupy  the  road  and  only  route  to  Fort  Edward, 
where  a  famous  part'  n  leader.  La  Corne,  with  a 
portion  of  the  Indians,  soon  after  joined  him.  Mont- 
calm now  proceeded  to  examine  the  fort,  and  came 
to  the  conclusion  it  was  impregnable  to  ordinary 
assault.  He  prepared,  therefore,  to  reduce  it  by 
regular  siege,  an  apparently  easy  matter,  with  his 
heavy  guns  and  large  forces,  which  numbered  in 
aU  something  like  eight  thousand  men.  As  a  pre- 
liminary, however,  he  sent  the  faithful  Bougainville 
to  offer  Monroe  terms  for  surrender.  He  pointed 
out  that  help  was  impossible,  which,  was  quite  true  ; 
thnt  his  own  numbers  were  overpowering  and  his  guns 

100 


I 


■  [1757 

nroe  to 
an  six- 
}h  him, 
oute  to 
i  simul- 
another 
running 
bo  Lake 

jhore  of 
I  corner 
ribs  and 
rifle  fire 
3t  heavy 
)le  force 
rovincial 
3und  six 
her  side. 

f'>le  posi- 
ding  de 
men  to 
Edward, 
),  with  a 
.     Mont- 
nd  came 
ordinary 
Be  it  by 
with  his 
bered  in 
.8  a  pre- 
Lgainville 

pointed 
ite  true; 

his  guns 


1757]       MONROE  OVERMATCHED 

to  match  ;  above  all,  that  a  large  part  of  his  Indians 
had  come  from  the  wild  west,  and  that  when  the 
surrender  came — which  was  inevitable  within  a  few 
days — and  blood  had  been  shed,  he  might  be  unable 
to  restiain  their  diabolical  ferocity.     Monroe  briefly 
replied  that  it  was  his  duty  to  hold  the  fort,  and  he 
should  do  his  utmost  to  maintain  himself.    Montcalm 
then  opened  his  lines  across  the  south-western  comer 
of  the  lake  at  a  range  of  600  yards.     Hundreds  of 
men  worked  in  the  trenches  night  and  day  under 
a  fire  from  the  fort  that,  after  the  first  few  hours, 
could  do  them  but  little  damage.    The  Indians  proved 
refractory  and  of  little  use.     Montcalm  wanted  them 
to  scout  southwards  towards  Fort  Edward  and  the 
Hudson,  but  they  were  sore  at  heart  because  they 
had  not  been  consulted  as  to  the  operations,  and  the 
greater  part  of  them  hung  about  behind  the  lines,  or 
lolled  in  their  canoes  or  fired  futile  shots  at  the  fort. 
Monroe,  in  the  meantime,  was  sending  eager  messages 
to  "Webb  for  help,  and  Webb  has  been  blamed  for  not 
responding.     His  previous  record  has,  perhaps,  made 
his  critics  unfair.     He  could  not  help  Monroe,  for  his 
weak  force  alone  barred  the  way  to  Albany,  and  to 
detach  a  portion  of  it  would  have  been  to  sacrifice 
that  portion  either  to  the  strong  forces  of  de  L^vis 
in  the  woods,  or  at  the  almost  inevitable  surrender 
of  Fort  William  Henry. 

In  three  days  the  best  of  Montcalm's  forty  guns 
were  in  position,  and  in  two  more  were  advanced 
to  within  200  yards  of  the  fort,  whose  ramparts  were 
flying  in  fragments  before  their  fierce  discharges. 
Two  sorties  were  tried,  both  from  the  fort  and  the 
intrenched  camp  beyond,  but  were  easily  repulsed. 
Wobb   might    have  done   something    in    this  way, 

191 


<  1 


r 

if 


4 


■  m 


mv  (I 


u 


I         t 

i»|-: 


SUBBENDEB  OF  THE  FOBT    [1757 

but  messengers  could  no  longer  get  through  to 
Fort  Edward  and  arrange  for  simultaneous  action. 
Smallpox,  too,  had  broken  out  in  the  garrison,  and 
was  spreading  rapidly.  Monroe  seems  to  have  had 
some  vague  hope  that  provisions,  the  chronic  diffi- 
culty with  all  French  Canadian  armies,  might  fail 
the  besiegers,  for  in  that  wilderness  every  ounce  of  food 
had  to  be  carried.  But  Montcalm  had  made  special 
efforts  this  time,  and,  moreover,  had  the  good  luck  to 
capture  150  head  of  cattle  belonging  to  the  garrison. 

Bougainville  was  again  sent  to  propose  terms,  and 
conducted  blindfold  into  the  fort,  but  again  the  brave 
Monroe,  though  he  was  shown  an  intercepted  letter 
to  himself  from  Webb  to  the  effect  that  assistance 
was  hopeless,  refused  to  treat.  Another  twenty-four 
hours,  ho^vever,  saw  such  warm  work  that  a  council 
of  war  was  called,  and  the  white  flag  was  at  length 
raised  upon  the  walls.  ^-z    . 

For  the  whole  French  artillery  was  now  intrenched 
at  close  range.  Many  of  the  English  guns  had  burst, 
and  only  about  half  a  dozen  were  fit  for  service, 
while  their  ammunition  was  nearly  exhausted:  so 
Colonel  Young,  commanding  a  detachment  of  the 
Royal  Americans,  or  60th,  then  newly  raised,  was 
sent  to  arrange  terms  of  capitulation. 

The  garrison  were  at  Montcalm's  mercy ;  they  had 
no  alternatives  but  death  or  surrender,  and  there 
were  many  women  among  them.  It  was  agreed  that 
the  troops  should  march  out  with  the  honours  of 
war,  all  ranks  retaining  their  personal  effects.  Every- 
thing else  in  the  fort  was  to  be  given  up.  Prisoners 
of  war  in  actual  fact  they  could  not  be,  for  food  was 
much  too  scarce  in  Canada  for  Mo^^calm  to  indulge 
in  such  luxuries ;  indeed,  the  people  themselves  were, 

192 


1 


)  1 


[1757 

)ugh  to 
action. 
>on,  and 
ave  had 
iiic  diffi- 
ght  fail 
e  of  food 
e  special 
I  luck  to 
arrison. 
rms,  and 
he  brave 
ed  letter 
ssistance 
)nty-four 
a  council 
at  length 

trenched 
ad  burst, 
service, 
Lsted :  so 
it  of  the 
ised,  was 

they  had 
nd  there 
reed  that 
)nours  of 
i.  Every- 
Prisoners 
food  was 
o  indulge 
ves  were, 


1757]  THE  GARRISON  MARCH    OUT 

at  that  very  moment,  on  something  like  half  rations. 
The  British  were  to  be  escorted  to  Fort  Edward,  and 
remain  on  parole  till  an  equal  number  of  French 
prisoners  should  be  delivered  safely  at  Ticonderoga, 
each  batch  of  the  latter  as  they  came  in  setting 
free  from  their  obligations  an  equivalent  number 
of  the  British.  In  recognition  of  the  bravery  of  the 
dr^ence,  the  garrison  were  to  take  with  them  a 
single  gun,  a  six-pounder.  The  loss  had  been  in- 
considerable— some  hundred  and  twenty  men  on  the 
British  and  half  as  many  on  the  French  side.  It 
was  understood,  however,  that  these  articles  could 
not  be  signed  until  the  savages  had  given  their 
consent.  This,  however,  they  were  induced  to  do, 
and  both  sides  proceeded  forthwith  to  put  them  into 
execution. 

The  fort  was  evacuated  at  mid-day  on  the  9th, 
when  the  garrison,  together  with  the  women  and 
children,  marched  out  to  the  intrenched  camp,  which 
was  of  course  included  in  the  surrender,  a  French 
regiment  being  detailed  to  secure  them  against  inter- 
ference on  the  part  of  the  Indians.  De  Bourlamaque, 
entering  the  fort  with  a  party  of  regulars,  set  a  guard 
over  the  ammunition  and  stores.  Everything  else  was 
abandoned  to  the  Indians,  who  gave  an  earnest  of 
what  was  coming  by  instantly  murdering  a  dozen  or 
more  sick  men,  who  had  been  left  according  to  the 
articles  of  agreement  in  Montcalm's  charge.  There 
was  not  much  plunder  in  the  fort  itself,  so  the  in- 
trenched camp,  where  all  the  British  were  huddled 
without  arms  save  the  bayonets  of  the  35th,  soon 
swarmed  with  bloodthirsty  demons,  baulked  of  what 
they  regarded  as  their  lawful  prey,  and  with  hands 
twitching  viciously  at  their  tomahawks.     Numbers 

193  o 


1  ,, 


II 


&       k\ 


,> 


THE  INTRENCHED  CAMP       [1757 

of  Canadians,  whose  morals  in  warfare  were  little 
higher  than  those  of  the  savages,  mingled  with  the 
now  excited  throng,  and  showed  unmistakable  sym- 
pathy with  its  temper.  There  was  great  confusion 
throughout  the  whole  afternoon,  the  Indians  jostling 
and  insulting  the  prisoners,  and  making  attempts 
from  time  to  time  to  wrest  their  personal  baggage 
out  of  their  hands.  The  liquor  was  either  under 
guard  or  destroyed,  else  no  efforts  of  Montcalm  and 
his  ofScers,  which  individually  were  considerable, 
could  have  prevented  a  general  massacre  before 
night.  But  these  efforts  of  the  French  officers,  though 
sincere  enough,  were  not  intelligently  directed,  nor 
were  they  backed  at  the  right  moment  by  proper 
force.  The  whole  business  in  fact  was  grossly  mis- 
managed. Canadian  militia  were  stationed  at  some 
points  as  a  protection  to  the  prisoners,  though  the 
Canadian  militiaman  looked  on  plunder  or  scalps  as 
the  rightful  price  to  pay  for  Indian  assistance,  and 
was  by  no  means  averse  to  taking  a  hand  in  it  him- 
self. The  restraint  which  Montcalm  had  exercised 
over  the  Indians  at  the  capture  of  Oswego  in  the 
preceding  year  was  regarded  by  all  Canadians,  from 
the  Governor  downwards,  as  a  pernicious  European 
prejudice.  Mercy  and  pity  had  no  place  in  back- 
woods warfare,  and  it  is  only  fair  to  say  that  the 
New  England  rangers  often  paid  the  savage  and  the 
Canadian  back  in  their  own  coin.  But  the  responsi- 
bility on  Montcalm  was  very  great,  and  his  failure  to 
estimate  its  gravity  is  a  lasting  stain  on  his  memory. 
Bougainville  writes  that  his  chief  himself  used  every 
effort,  and  made  urgent  appeals  to  the  Canadian 
officers  who  had  personal  influence  with  the  savages 
to  avert  the  threatened  catastrophe.    It  would  have 

194 


S''i 


1 


\\ 


l!      1  !l 


[1757 

e  Utile 
ith  the 
le  sym- 
infusion 
jostling 
ttempts 
aaggage 
r  under 
Slim  and 
iderable, 
3  before 
J,  though 
Bted,  nor 
f  proper 
ssly  mis- 
,  at  some 
3Ugh  the 
scalps  as 
mce,  and 
n  it  him- 
exercised 
;o  in  the 
gins,  from 
Suropean 
in  back- 
that  the 
3  and  the 
responsi- 
f  ailure  to 
memory. 
Lsed  every 
Canadian 
le  savages 
ould  have 


1757] 


INDIAN  VIOLENCE 


been  far  better  if  he  had  promptly  called  up  his  3,000 
French  troops  with  fixed  bayonets,  who  would  have 
overawed  with  ease  any  attempted  outbreak  of  the 
Indians.  On  this  means  of  protection,  however,  he 
drew  most  slenderly,  and  seems  to  have  contented 
himself  with  appeals  to  Canadians  and  interpreters, 
many  of  whom  would  have  been  inclined  to  look  on  a 
general  massacre  as  something  rather  of  a  diversion 
than  otherwise. 

The  afternoon  and  night  of  the  9th  were  passed 
anxiously  enough  by  the  two  thousand  British  of  all 
ranks,  besides  the  women  and  childien,  within  the 
intrenchment.     They  were  to  march  in  the  morning, 
and  as  soon  as  the  escort  of  300  regulars,  an  absurdly 
weak  one,  seeing  the  temper  of  the  savages,  should 
arrive.    Seventeen  wounded  men  lying  in  a  hut  under 
care  of  a  surgeon  were  the  first  victims.    The  Indians, 
brushing  aside  the  sentries,  dragged  the  wretched 
men  from  their  beds,  and  butchered  them  within  a 
few  yards  of  a  group  of  Canadian  ofi&cers,  who  did 
not  trouble  even  to  remonstrate.     As  the  defenceless 
column  of  prisoners  began  to  move,  the  savages  fell 
to  indiscriminate  plundering.     The  men  strenuously 
resisted  this  attempt  to  rob  them  of  their  personal 
effects.     Monroe  protested  loudly  that  the  terms  of 
the  capitulation  were  broken,  and  appealed  to  the 
French  officers  of  the  escort  which  was  drawn  up 
close  by.    The  latter  seem  to  have  been  cowed  by  the 
turmoil  around  them,  and  had  not  even  the  presence 
of  mind  to  send  for  support  to  the  army  which  lay  a 
few  hundred  yards  off.     All  they  did  was  to  urge 
the  British  to  give  up  their  property  for  the  sake  of 
peace,  and  to  get  away  as  fast  as  possible.     Many 
indignantly  refused  this  mean  advice.     Others  fol- 

195 


I 


m 


!| 


IfW^ 


i  VJ 


THE  MASSACRE 


[1757 


,  > 


.;■'' 


^^1 


lowed  it,  and  a  certain  amount  of  rum  from  private 
canteens  thus  found  its  way  down  the  throats  of  the 
yelling  savages  and  made  them  still  more  uncontroll- 
able. No  sooner  had  the  column  got  clear  of  the  in- 
trenchments,  and  started  upon  the  forest  road  to  Fort 
Edward,  than  all  restraint  was  thrown  ofip,  and  the 
Indians  fell  upon  the  rear,  stripping  both  men  and 
officers  to  their  very  shirts,  and  instantly  tomahawk- 
ing those  who  showed  resistance.  The  war  whoop 
was  now  raised — by  the  pet  converts  of  the  Canadian 
priesthood  from  Penobscot  it  is  said — when  the  rear 
of  the  column,  rushing  forward  upon  those  in  front,  a 
scene  of  horror  ensued  that  has  been  described  by 
many  pens.  Women  and  children  were  dragged  from 
the  crowd ;  some  were  tomahawked,  others  carried 
off  as  prisoners  to  the  woods.  Their  shrieks  and 
cries,  mingled  with  the  hideous  j  ells  of  the  Indians 
and  the  shouts  and  curses  of  the  impotent  British, 
made  an  unforgettable  scene.  Montcalm  and  the 
French  officers  threw  themselves  among  the  savages 
now  half  drunk  with  rum  or  blood,  and  did  all  that 
men  armed  only  with  authority  and  not  backed  by 
force,  as  they  should  have  been,  could  do.  The  small 
French  escort  in  the  meantime  looked  on  helplessly, 
the  crowd  of  Canadians  approvingly,  as  the  scene 
of  blood  and  plunder  and  outrage  continued. 

At  length  the  exertions  of  Montcalm  and  L^vis, 
Bourlamaque  and  other  French  officers,  had  some 
effect;  but  it  was  only  by  promising  payment  for 
the  captives  seized  by  the  Indians  that  some  sort 
of  order  was  restored.  The  precise  number  of  both 
sexes  thus  butchered  under  the  eyes  of  the  French, 
while  unarmed  captives  of  war,  is  a  matter  of  dispute. 
L^vis  counted  fifty  corpses  on  the  field,  while  sick 

196 


f 


'•  Kil 


[1757 

)rivate 
of  the 
mtroll- 
the  in- 
to Fort 
,nd  the 
en  and 
ahawk- 
whoop 
madian 
he  rear 
front,  a 
ibed  by 
ed  from 
carried 
eks  and 
Indians 
British, 
and  the 
savages 
all  that 
bcked  by 
?he  small 
elplessly, 
he  scene 
3d. 

id  L^vis, 
ad  some 
ment  for 
ome  sort 
ir  of  both 
3  French, 
f  dispute, 
rhile  sick 


1757]    AN  UNPARDONABLE  CRIME 

and  wounded  men  to  half  that  number  had  been 
murdered  in  their  beds,  and  numbers  more  dragged 
off  into  the  woods.  It  seems  probable  that  a  hundred 
would  be  a  fair  estimate  of  those  slain. 

Over  six  hundred  were  made  captives  by  the 
savages,  and  it  required  the  utmost  exertions  on 
Montcalm's  part,  with  a  considerable  outlay  of 
money,  to  recover  about  half  of  them.  The  Indians 
would  not  give  up  the  remainder  on  any  terms,  and 
eventually  took  them  to  Montreal,  where  Vaudreuil, 
who,  in  his  character  of  Canadian,  looked  with  much 
toleration  on  Indian  outrage,  had  to  pay  for  the 
amusement  this  time  with  large  sums  out  of  his  scant 
treasury  by  way  of  ransom.  The  whole  body  of 
Montcalm's  Indians  left  for  Canada  the  day  after 
the  massacre,  carrying  with  them  the  three  hundred 
prisoners  above  alluded  to,  and  no  difficulty  was  ex- 
perienced in  getting  the  rest  of  the  captured  British 
garrison  in  safety  to  Fort  Edward. 

There  is  absolutely  nothing  to  be  said  in  defence 
of  the  French  in  this  affair.  That  they  did  not  dare 
to  run  the  risk  of  offending  and  alienating  their 
Indians  is,  of  course,  the  explanation,  though  surely 
no  extenuation  of  such  ignoble  conduct.  It  is  one  of 
the  worst  stains  upon  the  annals  of  their  arms  in 
America.  They  would  have  been  bound  by  humanity 
only  in  the  storming  of  a  fort,  but  after  a  formal 
capitulation,  they  were  bound  not  merely  by  human- 
ity, but  by  the  most  elementary  rule  of  military 
honour,  and  it  is  satisfactory  to  think  that  they  paid 
dearly  for  it.  The  British  Government,  as  a  matter 
of  course,  repudiated  their  part  of  the  contract,  and 
not  a  French  prisoner  was  sent  to  Montreal,  nor  was 
the  parole  of  the  garrison  taken  any  account  of.    The 

197 


*: 


EFFECT  OF  THE  MASSAGBE    [1757 

memory  of  the  massacre  drove  many  a  bayonet 
home  in  the  coming  years  of  British  (Success  that 
might  otherwise  have  been  stayed  in  mercy,  and 
many  a  Canadian  sued  in  vain  for  his  life  at  the 
hands  of  the  New  England  Banger  who  might  for- 
merly have  been  spared.  Remember  Fort  William 
Henry  became  a  terrible  war  cry  in  many  a  battle 
and  in  many  a  bloody  backwoods  skirmish.  The 
French  knew  it  well  and  felt  thbt  it  added  a  fresh 
terror  to  defeat.  The  first  impulse  of  a  disarmed  or 
captured  Canadian  was  to  protest  by  voice  and  ges- 
ture that  he  had  not  been  prosent  at  that  accursed 
scene. 

The  growing  scarcity  of  food  in  Canada  saved  the 
forts  on  the  Hudson  and,  probably,  the  flourishing 
town  of  Albany  itself,  from  being  captured  and 
sacked  by  the  French.  Word  was  sent  that  it  was 
of  the  first  necessity,  that  the  now  ripening  harvest 
should  be  gathered,  and  there  were  not  men  to  do  it. 
So  the  French  turned  their  attention  to  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  British  fort  and  all  its  dependent  buildings. 
Great  bonfires  were  made  of  the  logs  forming  the 
ramparts,  and  into  them  were  cast  those  bodies  of  the 
dead  which  had  not  been  buried.  As  a  fortress  the 
place  ceased  to  exist.  Great  armaments,  some  of 
them  as  luckless  as  the  garrison  of  1757,  were  yet  to 
camp  on  its  ashes,  and  again  to  break  the  silence  of 
the  forests  with  the  din  of  war.  But  for  the  present 
solitude  reigned  over  the  devoted  spot ;  the  sounds  of 
human  life  gave  way  once  more  to  the  weird  cry  of 
the  loon  and  the  splash  of  the  summer-duck  upon 
the  lake,  the  boom  of  the  bull-frog  in  the  mars?!,  the 
drumming  of  the  ruffed  grouse  on  the  hill.  The 
waves  of  conflict  fell  back  for  a  brief  space,  and  left 

198 


[1757 

Etyonet 
IS  that 
y,  and 
at  the 
lit  f  or- 
T'illiam 
battle 
.  The 
I  freeh 
med  or 
id  ges- 
3cursed 


1757] 


THE  FORT  DESTROYED 


the  charred  logs  and  fire-scorched  stonework,  and  the 
trampled,  stump-strewn  cornfields  of  William  Henry, 
as  the  sum  total  of  a  year's  success  and  failure. 


i 
I  ill 


red  the 
rishing 
3d  and 
it  was 
harvest 

0  do  it. 
lestruc- 
ildings. 
Ing  the 
B  of  the 
ress  the 
Dme  of 
3  yet  to 
ience  of 
present 
»undsof 

1  cry  of 
k  upon 
rs^,  the 
1.  The 
md  left 


\^  ^- 


I    '1 


I 


^' 


^\;.;' .  •  ■ .     ;C."V-  ■■  i 


' 


'■V'.'wi 


'^1-,.'    >■"•;,; 


199 


THE  FRENCH  RETIRE 


[1757 


>  »i 


CHAPTER    VII 


LOUDON,  it  will  be  remembered,  received  the  fate- 
ful news  from  Fort  William  Henry  while  yet  upon 
the  ocean,  and  it  must  have  been  a  bitter  moment 
when  he  realized  how  completely  he  had  been  out- 
generalled.  For  the  bloodless  failure  in  Nova  Scotia 
he  could  blame  others;  for  the  bloody  tragedy  on 
Lake  George  his  ow  n  tactics  were  wholly  responsible. 
He  relieved  his  temper  by  vowing  vengeance  against 
Montcalm  as  an  abettor  of  savages  and  murderers, 
and  sent  word  by  a  fast-sailing  craft  to  Webb  to 
hold  out  at  Fort  Edward  till  he  could  send  him 
reinforcements.  It  was  the  last  of  August  when  he 
landed  his  troops  at  New  York.  But  the  French,  as 
we  have  seen,  had,  for  urgent  reasons,  to  abandon 
all  attempts  at  an  advance  up  the  Hudson,  and  had 
returned  in  part  to  Canada  to  t  ive  the  harvest,  and 
in  part  to  Ticonderoga  to  make  thau  post  secure. 
Loudon  is  supposed  even  now  to  have  cherished 
thoughts  of  attacking  the  French  fortress,  but  if  so 
he  soon  abandoned  them  on  a  closer  view  of  the 
situation.  In  intention  he  was  the  very  soul  of 
energy ;  in  execution  he  remains,  whether  from  his 
fault  or  his  ill-fortune,  the  typical  sluggard  of  the 
Seven  Years'  War  in  America. 

Sir  William  Johnson  had  joined  Webb  at  Fort 
Edward,   with    a  small  band   of    his  Indians,  just 

200 


I  .' 


1 


[1757 


he  fate- 
et  upon 
moment 
)en  out- 
a  Scotia 
redy  on 
»onsible. 
against 
xderers, 
V^ebb  to 
)nd  him 
srhen  he 
ench,  as 
ibandon 
ind  had 
est,  and 
secure. 
Iierished 
lut  if  so 
of  the 
soul   of 
from  his 
I  of  the 

at  Fort 
ms,  just 


1757]  ^  ESTRUCTION  OF  SETTLEMENTS 

about  the  time  of  the  fall  of  William  Henry,  and 
a  day  or  two  after,  but  all  too  late,  raw  militia  had 
begun  to  pour  in  by  the  hundred.  Their  behaviour, 
however,  was  so  mutinous,  and  their  conduct  so 
riotous,  that  Webb  was  glad  enough  to  dispense  with 
such  troops  and  disband  them,  now  that  their  ser- 
vices were  no  longer  needed. 

Only  one  incident  of  moment  marked  this  depress- 
ing autumn  of  a  year  of  disgrace  and  failure,  and 
that  of  a  kind  by  no  means  calculated  to  lighten  the 
general  gloom  on  the  Mohawk  River.  Near  those 
forts  that  Webb  had,  it  will  be  remembered,  de- 
stroyed in  his  panic  after  the  fall  of  Oswego,  was 
a  colony  of  thrifty  Palatine  Germans.  Far  behind 
civilization,  in  this  beautiful  and  fertile  valley,  these 
industrious  settlers  had  been  labouring  for  forty 
years,  and  were  now  a  conununity  of  some  three  hun- 
dred souls,  well  situated  in  comfortable  homesteads 
and  tilling  valuable  farms.  It  was  a  popular  creed 
among  French  Canadians  that  the  Germans  of  the 
British  colonies  were  dissatisfied — a  queer  delusion 
in  regard  to  people  who  revelled  in  an  independence 
far  more  novel  to  them  than  to  Englishmen.  By 
way  of  encouraging  other  Germans  to  crave  for  the 
paternal  government  of  France,  one,  De  Bellaitre, 
was  despatched  by  Vaudreuil  with  a  hundred  Cana- 
dians and  two  hundred  Indians  to  read  them  a 
lesson.  Paddling  up  the  St.  Lawrence  from  Mont- 
real, past  the  now  familiar  Thousand  Islands  into 
Lake  Ontario,  they  struck  southward  to  Lake  Oneida, 
crossed  the  portage  of  the  Mohawk  watershed,  and 
fell  suddenly  upon  the  unhappy  Teutons,  killing 
^very  man  that  resisted,  destroying  their  livestock, 
and  carrying  off  more  than  a  hundred  women  and 

201 


i, 

i 


'  ! 


M*l 


^1 


••  ■; 


I    ; 


^M 


I 


1757]  BRITISH  PRISONERS  AT  MONTREAL 

children  into  captivity.  A  small  British  detachment 
from  Fort  Herkimer  hurried  up,  but  they  were  too 
late,  and  in  any  case  too  weak.  Lord  Howe,  com- 
manding further  down  at  Schenectady,  was  strong 
enough,  but  he  arrived  much  too  late,  and  found 
nothing  but  the  smoking  ruins  of  homesteads  and 
hundreds  of  slaughtered  sheep  and  cattle. 

In  the  meanwhile,  the  Indian  heroes  of  Fort 
William  Henry,  who  had  been  almost  as  great  a 
curse  to  their  friends  as  to  their  foes,  paraded  their 
wretched  prisoners  at  Montreal,  and  by  no  means 
yielded  them  all  up  to  the  not  very  insistant  over- 
tures of  Vaudreuil.  One  of  these  English  captives, 
writes  Bougainville,  who  was  just  then  on  the  spot, 
they  killed  in  presence  of  the  whole  town,  and 
forced  his  miserable  companions  to  devour.  It  is 
even  asserted  by  French  writers  that  mothers  were 
compelled  to  eat  portions  of  their  own  children. 
Bougainville  shuddered  at  the  horrors  he  saw,  but 
was  impotent,  for  Canadian  public  opinion  was 
lenient  to  these  little  Indian  vagaries  so  long  as  other 
people  were  the  victims.  Bigot  the  Intendant,  no 
man  of  war,  but  an  expert  in  crooked  contracts, 
calmly  stated  that  the  savages  must  be  kept  in  good 
humour  at  any  cost.  Vaudreuil,  for  his  part,  was 
quite  proud  of  his  magnanimity  in  purchasing,  with 
Government  brandy,  the  lives  of  men  who  had  sur- 
rendered to  his  troops  under  signed  articles ;  while 
Indians  reeled  in  crowds  about  the  rude  streets  of 
Montreal,  insolent,  offensive,  drunk,  and  dangerous. 

It  was  a  gloomy  enough  winter,  this  one  of  1757-58, 
in  the  British  provinces.  Loudon's  troops  had  retired 
to  isolated  snow-bound  forts,  or  to  their  much-grudged 
but  no  longer  disputed  quarters  in  the  principal  cities. 

202 


mm 


)  I 


r 


;eal 

unent 
:e  too 
com- 
jtrong 
found 
s  and 

Fort 
reat  a 
I  their 
means 

over- 
ptives, 
3  spot, 
1,   and 

It  is 
s  were 
ildren. 
tw,  but 
1    was 
s  other 
nt,   no 
Ltracts, 
n  good 
ft,  was 
g,  with 
id  sur- 
;  while 
eets  of 
gerous. 
757-58, 

retired 

rudged 
1  cities. 


LOW  EBB  OP  BRITISH  FORTUNES  [1757 

It  was  the  lowest  point  ever  touched  by  Anglo-Saxon 
fortunes  in  America.  Oswego  and  William  Henry 
were  scenes  of  desolation  ;  Louisbourg  was  con- 
temptuous and  defiant  behind  its  bristling  rows  of 
cannon  and  massive  ramparts  ;  the  colonists  even  of 
New  England  were  disheartened  and  disillusioned  as 
to  the  invincibility  of  British  troops,  and  sore  both 
with  their  generals  and  their  officers.  The  frontiers 
of  the  more  southern  colonies  still  ran  with  blood, 
and  the  labours  of  a  generation  on  a  belt  of  country 
nearly  four  hundred  miles  in  length  had  been  swept 
away.  Washington,  struggling  almost  alone  with 
provincial  legislatures,  as  twenty  years  later  he 
struggled  quite  alone  with  the  continental  congress, 
had  patiently  striven  to  mitigate  the  misery.  He 
had  now  been  over  two  years  at  the  frontier  village 
of  Winchester,  in  the  valley  of  Virginia,  eating  his 
heart  out  in  vain  endeavours  to  stem  the  hordes  of 
Indians  led  byi  Frenchmen,  who  swarmed  across  the 
stricken  borders  of  the  middle  colonies.  "I  have 
been  posted,"  he  wrote  in  the  preceding  spring,  "  for 
more  than  twenty  months  on  our  cold  and  barren 
frontiers  to  perform,  I  think  I  may  say,  an  impossi- 
bility ;  that  is,  to  protect  from  the  cruel  incursions 
of  a  crafty,  savage  enemy  a  line  of  inhabitants  more 
than  three  hundred  and  fifty  miles  in  extent,  with  a 
force  inadequate  to  the  task."  He  was  still  only 
twenty-five,  but  a  head  and  shoulders  above  any 
colonial  soldier  outside  New  England.  He  had  no 
chance  of  gain  or  glory  with  his  thousand  or  so  "  poor 
whites,"  ill-paid  and  discontented,  and  recruited  with 
infinite  difficulty.  His  officers  were  often  of  no  better 
discipline.  One  of  them,  he  tells  us,  sent  word  on 
being  ordered  to  his  post,  that  he  could  not  come,  as 

203 


4.      *. 


WASHINGTON'S  DESPAIR       [1757 

his  wife,  his  family,  and  his  com  crop,  all  required  his 
attention.  "  Such,"  says  Washington,  in  a  white  heat, 
**  is  the  example  of  the  officers,  such  the  hehaviour 
of  the  men,  and  upon  such  circumstances  the  safety 
of  this  country  depends."  Three  colonies,  Pennsyl- 
vania, Maryland,  and  Virginia,  with  some  half- 
million  whites,  to  say  nothing  of  rude  and  populous 
North  Carolina,  could  only  wring  from  this  large 
population  a  wretched,  half-hearted  militia  of  2,000 
men,  recruited  largely  from  the  burnt-out  victims 
of  the  frontier.  Where,  one  may  well  ask,  were 
the  squires  of  Virginia  and  Maryland,  who  swarmed 
along  the  eastern  counties  of  both  provinces,  and 
whose  comfortable  homesteads  reached  to  within 
a  hundred  miles  of  the  scene  of  this  bloody  war, 
of  their  fellow-countrymen's  long  agony,  and  of  the 
impudent  invasion  of  their  country  ?  To  mention  a 
dozen  or  two  young  men  of  this  class  who  rallied 
to  Washington,  would  only  be  to  aggravate  the 
case,  if  such  were  possible,  in  the  face  of  these 
statistics.  Men  of  substance  and  education,  accus- 
tomed to  horse  and  gun,  "  outdoor "  men  in  fact  or 
nothing,  were  quietly  staying  at  home  by  thousands, 
unstirred  by  feelings  of  patriotism  or  vengeance, 
and  apparently  untouched  by  the  clash  of  arms 
and  the  ordinary  martial  instincts  of  youth.  Their 
grandfathers  had  fought ;  their  sons  were  to  fight ; 
their  descendants  were  in  the  last  civil  war  to  be 
among  the  bravest  of  the  brave.  What  was  this 
generation  doing  at  such  a  moment  ?  Washington, 
whose  local  patriotism  no  one  will  dispute,  and 
whose  example  shone  like  a  beacon  light  amid  the 
gloom,  cursed  them  often  and  soundly  in  his  letters 
for  doing  nothing.    It  was  fortunate  for  these  colonies 

204 


/ 1 


iif 


[1757 

[red  his 
1)6  heat, 
laviour 
safety 
ennsyl- 
9    half- 
dpulous 
a  large 
>f  2,000 
victims 
k,  were 
warmed 
ses,  and 
within 
ly  war, 
i  of  the 
ntion  a 
rallied 
ate  the 
f  these 
,  accus- 
fact  or 
msands, 
igeance, 
»f   arms 
Their 
;o  fight ; 
r   to  be 
iras   this 
lington, 
ite,  and 
mid  the 
s letters 
colonies 


1757]  INDIFFERENCE  IN  THE  COLONIES 

that  Pitt  came  forward  to  save  them.  The  people  of 
Maryland  and  Virginia  are  more  than  most  other 
Americans  proud  of  their  ancestry — not  because  they 
were  thrifty  merchants,  for  they  ignored  commerce  ; 
not  because  they  were  famous  navigators,  for  they 
were  not  sea-goers ;  not  because  they  were  thrifty 
farmers  who  made  two  blades  of  grass  grow  where 
one  had  grown  before,  for  they  were  sad  economists  in 
this  respect.  The  sentiment  is  by  way  of  being  that 
which  holds  good  in  Europe,  and  regards  ancestry  in 
the  accepted  sense  of  the  word  as  synonymous  with 
an  aptitude  for  arms.  But  the  tobacco  squires  of  the 
Seven  Years'  War  were  lamentably  wanting  in  those 
generous  and  martial  impulses  which  supply  almost 
the  only  motive  for  pride  of  race,  and  quite  the  only 
one  where  high  culture  and  learning  are  absent,  as 
was  here  the  case.  There  is  no  traversing  the  facts  ; 
they  are  bare  and  patent,  and  it  has  always  seemed 
to  us  one  of  the  most  unaccountable  incidents  of 
American  history.  Think  of  South  Africa  to-day, 
and,  indeed,  the  parallel  is  not  an  inapt  one,  save  that 
in  the  racial  struggle  for  North  America  the  prize 
was  greater.  Think  of  the  colonists  of  every  class 
so  lately  crowding  by  thousands  to  the  front, 
though  none  of  their  women,  children,  or  friends 
have  been  scalped  and  murdered.  Indeed,  for  that 
matter,  turn  to  Massachusetts  at  that  day,  who  alone 
sent  to  the  front  ten  or  fifteen  thousand  close-fisted, 
industrious  farmers,  men  whose  labour  was  their 
daily  bread,  and  whose  absence  from  the  homestead 
was,  for  the  most  part,  a  serious  matter. 

"Nothing,"  wrote  Washington,  "keeps  me  from 
resignation  but  the  imminent  danger  to  my  country. 
The  supplicating  tears  of    the  women  and  moving 

205 


■f 


1 


'  3 
(  i. 


[I 


\^ 


\i 


il 

1 


:^-*-' 


SUFFERING  IN  CANADA       [1757 

petitions  of  the  men  melt  me  into  such  deadly 
sorrow,  that  I  solemnly  declare,  if  I  know  my  own 
mind,  I  could  offer  myself  a  willing  sacrifice  to  the 
butchering  enemy,  provided  that  would  contribute  to 
the  people's  ease." 

Washington  was  giving  up  a  life  of  ease  and  com- 
fort, neglecting  an  estate  to  whose  management  he 
was  greatly  attached,  and  those  field  sports  which, 
next  to  fighting,  were  the  passion  of  his  life.  Here, 
however,  on  this  shaggy  blood-stained  frontier,  with- 
out means  to  fight  effectively,  neither  glory  nor  even 
thanks  were  to  be  gained.  He  lost  his  temper  more 
than  once,  and  wrote  incontrovertible  but  imprudent 
letters  to  the  Virginian  authorities  at  Williamsburg, 
falling  thereby  into  the  bad  books  of  the  gentlemen 
who  .•ej^.'^''''^d  the  state  of  the  frontier  with  such 
prodi4,>  or-^animity.  At  one  time  an  obscure 
Marylanu  v&jiiain  of  thirty  men,  who  held  a  king's 
commi.«'.*on,  had  claimed  precedence  of  the  young 
colonel  and  'mni  cjni^er  of  the  Western  Frontier. 
Wasiiington  had  inej^  ridden  the  whole  way  to  Bos- 
ton— four  hundred  miles — to  put  the  matter  straight 
with  Shirley,  then  in  chief  authority,  and  ensure 
against  its  recurrence. 

The  Canadians,  too,  had  suffered  greatly  this  winter. 
The  troops  were  reduced  to  small  rations  of  horse 
flesh,  and  only  the  tact  and  ability  of  de  L^vis  averted 
a  general  mutiny.  The  small  social  circles  of  Quebec 
and  Montreal,  however,  lacked  for  nothing,  but 
danced  and  dined,  and  intrigued  and  sleighed  in 
merry  parties  along  the  frozen  river  or  through  the 
silent  pine  woods  white  with  their  load  of  snow. 
The  Bureaucracy,  with  Bigot  at  their  head,  followed 
with  unabated  ardour  their    career  of  fraud  and 

206 


I  I 


i'j, 


.^^ 


1757] 


CANADIAN  OFFICIALS 


trickery.     Never  were  a  king  and  his  subjects  more 
flagrantly  cheated.     They  sold   the  provisions  sent 
from  France  to  the  relief  of  the  colony  and  pocketed 
the  money.     They  fixed  the  price  of  grain  by  law, 
bought  it  all  up,  and  then  retailed  it  at  famine  prices. 
They  sold  Government  supplies  twice  over  in  collusion 
with  the  officers  who  had  to  sign  the  receipts.     They 
purchased   supplies   for  the   king's   use   through  so 
many  confederate  hands,  that  the  price  was  three  or 
four  times  that  originally  paid  for  the  articles.    They 
intercepted  food  granted  by  the  king  to  the  hapless 
Acadian  refugees,  sold  the  larger  part  back  to  his 
Majesty  at  high  prices,  and  half  starved  the  miserable 
outcasts  on  what  was  left.     The  command  of  an  out- 
lying fort  was  regarded  as  equivalent  to  a  small 
fortune,  and  bestowed  accordingly  on   friends  and 
reli^uives.     The  usual  method  was  to  give  vouchers 
for  twice  or  three  times  the  amount  of  stores  actually 
purchased,  and  to  exchange  the  Government  presents 
sent  to  the  Indians  for  skins  or  furs.     It  may  well 
be  asked,  What  was  Montcalm  himself,  the  soul  of 
honour,  saying  to  all  this  ?    As  a  matter  of  fact,  his 
position  under  de  Vaudreuil,  who  was  himself  mixed 
up  in  the  frauds,  was  sufficiently  delicate  to  make 
interference  difficult.     But  Montcalm  did  take  means 
to  acquaint  the  home  Government,  already  suspicious 
of  the  vast  sums  of  money  demanded,  with  the  con- 
dition of  affairs,  and  their  eyes  gradually  opened.     It 
is  not  perhaps  wholly  to  be  wondered  at  that  France 
lost  some  of  her  enthusiasm  for  an  offspring  that 
tugged  so  incessantly  at  the  strings  of  her  almost 
empty  purse,  and  showed  so  little  profit  for  the  in- 
vestment.   The  letters  to  Vaudreuil  from  his  Govern- 
ment at  last  grew  harsh  and  threatening,  as  the 

207 


)  s 


•1 


PITT  TO  THE  RESCUE 


[1758 


111 


)i 


rascality  of  the  whole  business  began  to  dawn  on  the 
hitherto  credulous  Ministers  of  Marine.  But  it  was 
too  late.  Pitt  was  about  to  settle  down  to  the  greatest 
work  ever  achieved  by  a  British  Minister.  The  colony 
was  now  entering  a  death-struggle  in  which  ledgers 
and  vouchers  would  be  for  the  time  forgotten ;  and 
there  is  good  reason  to  suppose  that  many  a  tell-tale 
document  went  to  feed  the  flames  which  the  British 
torch  or  shell  fire  had  ignited.  But  the  corruption 
of  the  Canadian  civil  officials,  and  a  great  number  of 
the  colony  officers,  did  not  interfere  with  the  actual 
fighting  power  of  the  military  machine,  which  was 
itself  a  hardy  plant.  Food  and  clothes  and  ammuni- 
tion for  men  on  active  service  were  always  forth- 
coming. If  they  had  not  been,  Montcalm  would  have 
asked  the  reason  why,  with  a  forcible  authority,  such 
as  in  civil  affairs  he  could  not  call  to  his  aid. 

It  was  at  the  opening  of  the  ever-memorable  year 
of  1758  that  Pitt,  free  at  last  from  the  shackles  of 
his  predecessor's  plans  and  his  predecessor's  generals, 
applied  his  great  gifts  to  the  task  before  him.  Great 
Britain  was  sunk  in  despondency.  Chesterfield  de- 
clared we  were  "no  longer  a  nation."  If  any  man  had 
asserted  that  in  two  or  three  years  we  should  take 
our  place  at  the  head  of  all  nations,  never  as  a  world- 
power  to  again  relinquish  it,  he  would  have  been 
accounted  as  fit  only  for  Bedlam.  Many,  though 
they  could  not  know  what  we  do  now  of  the  then 
state  of  France  and  Canada,  thought  we  should  be 
stripped  of  all  influence,  if  not  of  all  foothold  in 
America,  while  the  fear  in  England  of  a  French 
invasion  returned  as  regularly  as  the  summer  leaves. 

To  free  his  mind  of  all  paltry  cares,  Pitt  had  flung 
the  sordid  part  of  government  to  Newcastle,  who 

208 


1758 

in  the 
fc  was 
aatest 
lolony 
tdgers 
;  and 
U-tale 
British 
iption 
ber  of 
actual 
h  was 
imuni- 
forth- 
d  have 
jr,  such 

le  year 
kles  of 
nerals, 

Great 
eld  de- 
an had 
d  take 
world- 
e  been 
though 
e  then 
>uld  be 
Lold  in 
French 

leaves, 
d  flung 
e,  who 


1758] 


MAGNETISM  OF  PITT 


revelled  in  it.  It  was  part  of  his  bargain  that  where 
the  honour  or  the  safety  of  the  nation  were  at  stake 
his  word  was  law,  his  appointments  indisputable  ; 
and  he  proceeded  at  once  with  fine  audacity  to  make 
hay  of  privilege,  of  family  interest,  of  seniority.  The 
incapables  were  relegated  to  obscurity,  and  those 
who  might  have  caused  annoyance  were  soothed  by 
Newcastle  with  pensions,  compliments,  or  honours, 
which  most  of  them  perhaps  preferred  to  service  in 
America.  Small  pay  and  brevet  rank  for  his  servants 
seems  to  have  been,  too,  a  sop  that  Pitt  felt  it  ad- 
visable, for  the  sake  of  peace,  to  throw  to  the  long 
list  of  rejected  generals,  who  seem  therein  to  have 
found  some  strange  consolation.  Fortunately,  Pitt's 
young  men  had,  for  the  most  part,  souls  above  titles 
or  lucre,  though  Wolfe  was  hard  pushed  for  neces- 
sary money ;  and  his  widowed  mother,  after  his 
death,  made  futile  representations  to  Government 
for  some  financial  recognition  of  the  work  done  by 
the  conqueror  of  Quebec.  Pitt's  plans  were  not 
merely  to  reduce  France  to  her  legitimate  sphere  in 
America,  and  make  her  harmless  against  Great 
Britain  in  Europe,  but  to  drive  her  wholly  from  the 
western  hemisphere,  to  wrest  from  her  every  posses- 
sion she  had  outside  her  own  borders,  to  leave  her 
crushed,  humiliated,  and  powerless  for  aggression. 

To  this  end  he  appealed  with  impassioned  fervour 
to  the  heart  of  England,  and  by  a  genius,  unequalled 
in  our  history,  and  that  seems  to  us  who  have 
not  seen  or  heard  him  almost  magical,  brought  an 
apparently  half -moribund  nation  into  an  ecstasy  of 
patriotic  ardour.  Every  one  who  approached  the 
great  statesman  caught  the  inspiration,  and  every 
man  in  England  who  had  a  heart  ";t  all  felt  the 

209  P 


r| 


; 


k 


J 


LOUDON  RECALLED 


[1758 


1^'    li 


r 


■f-j 


'f  ii 


LH 


-* 


blood  coursing  more  briskly  through  it.  Those 
whom  Pitt  called  especially  to  serve  him  and  main- 
tain the  nation's  honour  went  to  the  camp  or  to  the 
wilderness  with  an  enthusiasm  for  their  chief  and 
country,  and  a  sense  of  exhilaration  that  had  for  long 
been  almost  wholly  lacking. 

With  Pitt's  assistance  in  Europe  to  the  gallant 
Frederick  of  Prussia  we  have  nothing  to  do.  It  will 
be  sufficient  to  say  that  the  Duke  of  Cumberland's 
reverses  were  fully  avenged,  and  the  French  repulsed 
at  every  point. 

As  for  the  American  campaign,  which  constitutes 
our  story,  there  was  not  much  opening  for  strategic 
ingenuity.  As  I  have  endeavoured,  with  perhaps 
undue  reiteration,  to  make  clear,  there  were  certain 
routes  through  the  northern  wilderness  by  which 
French  and  English  could  seriously  attack  each 
other,  and  none  other.  There  was  nothing  new, 
therefore,  in  Pitt's  American  programme  for  1758 
but  the  men  who  were  to  carry  it  out  and  the  kind 
of  spirit  which  animated  them.  Above  all,  there  was 
the  enthusiasm  with  which  the  people  of  England 
— ^particularly  of  that  substantial  but  unrepresented 
middle  class  to  whom  Pitt's  personality  appealed — 
supported  him  with  heart  and  purse. 

Loudon  had  abandoned  the  only  true  path  of 
American  warfare,  probably  because  his  predecessor, 
Shirley,  a  civilian,  had  planned  it,  and,  as  we  have 
seen,  left  New  York  almost  defenceless  in  a  vain 
attempt  to  gather  laurels  upon  distant  shores.  It 
was  no  thanks  to  him  that  the  colony  was  still  in 
British  hands,  and  Pitt  now  recalled  him  with  con- 
temptuous brevity.  It  is  only  to  be  regretted  that 
Abercromby  did  not  sail  in  the  same  ship.      The 

210 


..s: 


I      1 


[1758 

Those 
main- 
■jO  the 
)f  and 
r  long 

;allant 
ItwiU 
[•land's 
pulsed 

titutes 
:ategic 
erhaps 
3ertain 
which 
:  each 
r  new, 
r  1758 
e  kind 
jre  was 
ngland 
isented 
)aled — 

ath  of 
icessor, 
e  have 
a  vain 
es.  It 
still  in 
h  con- 
id  that 
The 


1758] 


WOLFE 


excuse  put  forward  for  making  such  concession  to 
routine  in  the  matter  of  this  luckless  officer  is,  that 
Pitt  felt  secure  in  the  fact  that  the  young  Lord 
Howe,  one  of  the  most  rising  soldiers  and  most 
estimable  characters  in  the  British  army,  would  be 
at  his  right  hand ;  but,  however  probable,  this  is, 
after  all,  but  a  matter  of  conjecture. 

Ticonderoga,  Fort  Duquesne  and  Louisbourg  were 
to  be  the  objects  this  year  of  three  separate  expe- 
ditions. Of  the  first,  Abercromby,  now  in  America, 
was  to  be  in  command ;  and  of  the  second,  Brigadier 
Forbes,  a  Scottish  soldier  of  merit  and  energy. 
Louisbourg  was  made  a  matter  of  prime  importance, 
as  the  fleet  was  to  co-operate.  Amherst,  a  colonel 
serving  in  Germany,  was  recalled  to  take  command 
of  the  land  force  with  the  rank  of  General,  and 
under  him  went  three  brigadiers — Lawrence,  whom 
we  have  met  before  in  Nova  Scotia,  Whitmore,  of 
whom  little  was  known,  and  lastly,  in  a  good  hour, 
James  Wolfe. 

As  Wolfe's  name  is  the  most  luminous  by  far  in  the 
annals  of  the  war,  a  few  words  on  the  previous  re- 
cord of  this  illustrious  young  soldier  will  not  be  amiss. 
He  was  of  that  Anglo-Irish  stock  which  has  given  to 
the  nation  so  many  leaders,  though  his  particular 
branch  of  the  family  had  been  back  in  England  again 
for  two  or  three  generations  when  the  hero  himse 
was  born.  His  father  was  a  general  in  the  army,  who, 
in  youth,  had  seen  service  under  Marlborough,  and 
in  advanced  middle  age,  after  Walpole's  long  peace, 
took  the  field  again  in  South  America  and  Scotland.^ 
His  mother  was  a  Miss  Thompson,  daughter  of  a 

*  Wolfe's  father  went  north  with  Wade  in  the  '4B  as  a  General  of 
Division,  though  very  infirm  and  taking  little  part  in  the  operations. 

211 


V    4 


I 


i\ 


CHILDHOOD  OF  WOLFE 


[1758 


fi, 


If 


Yorkshire  squire.  The  Wolfes  had  just  taken  a 
small  but  picturesque  Tudor  house  which  still  stands 
in  the  outskirts  of  the  little  Kentish  town  of  Wester- 
ham,  when  their  eldest  son,  James,  was  born.*  There 
he  and  his  brother,  who  died  in  his  first  campaign, 
spent  their  early  youth.  In  the  gardens  of  Squerryes 
Court,  close  by,  an  inscribed  cenotaph  marks  the  spot 
where  the  hero  of  the  Plains  of  Abraham  received 
the  envelope  containing  his  first  commission  while 
playing  with  his  friends  the  Wardes,  whose  de- 
scendants still  live  there,  and  in  the  stately  Queen 
Anne  mansion  are  still  treasured  those  hundred  and 
seventy  or  so  well-written  and  characteristic  letters 
in  which  the  young  soldier  unconsciously  tells  the 
story  of  his  life. 

There  is  an  old  Welsh  legend  relating  how  Owen 
Glyndwr,  while  still  a  babe  in  arms,  if  he  caught 
sight  of  a  sword  or  a  spear,  gave  those  in  charge  of 
him  no  peace  till  it  was  placed  in  his  infant  fingers. 
Wolfe,  not  in  legendary  lore,  but  in  actual  deed,  was 
only  less  precocious  in  his  martial  ardour ;  for  when 
his  father,  then  commanding  a  regiment  of  marines, 
was  waiting  in  camp  to  embark  on  the  luckless  expedi- 
tion against  Carthagena,  the  boy — then  just  thirteen 
— ^brushing  aside  his  mother's  tears  and  entreaties,  and 
overcoming  his  father's  less-pronounced  objections, 
actually  succeeded  in  getting  himself  attached  to  the 
regiment  as  a  volunteer.  Happily  they  were  not  yet 
on  board  when  he  was  seized  with  some  chiluish 
malady  and  sent  home  again,  and  put  to  school. 

At  fifteen,  however,  Wolfe  actually  received  his 
commission,  and  joined  Duroure's,  or  the  12th  regi- 

*  Wolfe  was  actually  born  in  the  Rectory  close  by,  which  his 
parents  were  temporarily  occupying. 

212 


1758]  HIS  CHARACTER  AND  SERVICES 

ment  of  foot  At  sixteen  he  fought  in  the  battle  of 
Dettingen,  acting  as  adjutant  throughout  the  whole 
of  that  sanguinary  day,  which  his  boyish  pen  has 
graphically  described.  Proud  of  his  profession  and 
of  his  country,  fearless  in  battle  and  ardent  in  his 
duties,  he  got  plenty  of  the  work  that  was  in  taose 
days  crowded  on  a  willing  horse.  At  the  breaking 
out  of  the  Jacobite  rebellion  of  '45,  though  barely 
nineteen,  he  had  won  his  way,  without  backing  or 
interest,  to  be  brigade-major.  He  fought  through 
this  campaign  in  Barrel's  regiment  (the  4th  foot), 
and  afterwards  on  the  Continent,  where  he  was 
wounded  at  Lauffeldt.  He  then  had  some  ten  years 
of  home  service  in  command  of  the  20th  regiment, 
partly  in  Scotland,  doing  police  work  among  dis- 
affected Highlanders,  and  partly  in  southern  garri- 
sons, chafing  vehemently  the  while  at  such  enforced 
inactivity.  In  such  times,  however,  he  never  lost  an 
opportunity  of  improving  himself,  studying  mathe- 
matics and  classics,  as  well  as  military  history.  He 
fished  and  shot  when  the  chance  offered  with  equal 
ardour.  He  was  fond  of  society,  both  grave  and  gay, 
was  a  graceful  and  industrious  dancer,  and  expected 
his  subalterns  to  be  the  latter  at  any  rate.  All 
Wolfe  could  do  in  the  years  of  peace  between  the 
two  wars  he  did  do  in  the  path  of  professional  duty, 
for  he  left  his  regiment  the  best  disciplined  of  any 
in  the  British  army,  and  one  much  sought  after  by 
ambitious  youths  and  prudent  parents.  He  was  a 
singular  blend  of  the  dashing  fighter,  the  strict  dis- 
ciplinarian, the  ardent  student,  the  keen  sportsman, 
and  society  man.  He  was  religious  without  ostenta- 
tion, studious  without  any  taint  of  the  prig,  and 
brave  even  to  recklessness. 

213 


-J*. 


»■      I'l 


I  f! 


f  1 


f:^  '< 


'I  ,:  i- 


ADMIRALS  HAWKE  AND   OSBORN  [1758 

The  long,  gaunt  figure,  the  pale,  homely  face  and 
red  hair,  of  which  Wolfe  himself  was  always  so 
humorously  conscious,  are  a  familiar  miemory  to 
most  people,  while  his  wretched  health  is  also  a 
matter  of  common  notoriety.  He  loved  as  ardently 
and  as  faithfully  as  he  fought,  for  being  unsuccessful 
in  his  first  attachment, — a  daughter  of  the  Sir  Wilfrid 
Lawson  of  that  day  being  the  object  of  it, — he  re- 
mained for  years  true  to  her  memory,  and  proof 
against  all  other  charmers  till  within  a  few  months  of 
his  death.  What  kind  of  a  son  he  was  his  corres- 
pondence shows.  Almost  the  only  thing  he  would  not 
do  for  his  mother  was  to  marry  any  of  the  heiresses 
that  excellent  lady  was  in  the  habit  of  pressing  upon 
his  notice.  In  1757  he  had  been  sent  as  fourth  in 
command  of  the  luckless  expedition  against  Rochelle, 
led  by  Sir  John  Mordaunt,  and  was  the  only  man 
who  came  out  of  it  with  any  credit.  Even  this  con- 
sisted only  of  intentions  which  the  supineness  of 
his  chief  forbade  him  to  carry  out ;  and  that  so 
slight  an  incident  caught  Pitt's  attention  is  charac- 
teristic of  his  genius.  Wolfe's  professional  ardour  in 
those  dull  times,  together  with  his  rather  uncommon 
temperament,  made  him  regarded  in  some  quarters 
as  eccentric.  Some  one  told  George  II.  he  was  mad. 
"  Mad,  is  he  ? "  snarled  out  the  old  king,  soured  by 
the  recent  displays  of  British  strategy.  "Then  I 
only  hope  he'll  bite  some  of  my  generals." 

But  Pitt's  first  care  this  year  was  to  prevent,  if 
possible,  any  men  or  provisions  from  crossing  the 
ocean  for  the  relief  of  Canada.  Armaments  for  this 
purpose  were  known  to  be  preparing  in  Rochef  ort  and 
Toulon,  so  Hawke  and  Osborn  were  sent  with  suffi- 
cient ships  to  effectually  thwart  both  enterprises.     As 

214 


\iV 


•^> 


1758] 


BOSOAWEN 


3nt,  if 
the 
r  this 
tand 
suffi- 
As 


a  big  fish  chases  a  shoal  of  frightened  fry  on  to  the 
shallows,  so  Hawke  drove  the  French  fleet  at  Roche- 
fort  helter-skelter  on  to  their  own  rocks  and  sand- 
banks, to  their  very  great  detriment,  while  Osbom 
guarded  the  Straits  at  Gibraltar,  a  position  which 
the  armament  at  Toulon  did  not  venture  to  dispute. 

Boscawen,  who  was  to  command  the  North  Ameri- 
can fleet  and  take  Amherst's  army  to  Louisbourg, 
was  a  son  of  Lord  Falmouth  and  a  grandson  of  that 
too-famous  Arabella  Churchill,  who  had  married 
after  her  relationship  with  James  II.  had  ceased. 
He  was  therefore  of  the  Marlborough  blood;  but 
Boscawen's  nicknames  of  "Old  Dreadnought"  and 
"  Wrynecked  Dick  "  suggest  rather  the  bluff  seadog 
of  the  period  than  any  flavour  of  coronets  and  courts. 
In  any  case  he  was  known  as  a  good  sailor,  and,  what 
at  this  moment  was  equally  important,  might  be 
trusted  to  act  cordially  with  Amherst,  and  not  follow 
the  too-prevalent  fashion  of  thwarting  the  soldier 
because  he  himself  was  of  the  rival  trade.  For  there 
was  not  much  love  lost  in  those  days  between  the 
services,  and  they  were  both  apt  to  show  their  feelings 
only  too  plainly  for  the  public  welfare  when  called 
upon  to  act  together.  The  sailor,  from  the  nature  of 
his  services  on  these  occasions,  was  the  greater  sinner, 
and  national  enterprise,  strange  though  it  seems  now, 
had  suffered  often  and  sorely  from  the  friction.  The 
naval  officer  of  those  days,  as  everybody  knows,  was, 
with  some  exceptions,  a  rough  diamond.  Taken  as  a 
class,  he  was  not  the  social  equal  of  the  soldier,  and 
this  in  part,  no  doubt,  accounted  for  his  unconciliatory 
attitude.  But  a  change,  both  in  the  personnel  and 
the  sentiment  of  the  navy,  was  now  creeping  in,  and 
Boscawen  amply  proved   his    capacity  for   putting 

215 


\\ 


),! 


BRITISH  SAIL  FOB  HALIFAX    [1758 

professional  prejudice  aside  when  the  honour  of  his 
country  was  at  stake. 

It  was  the  19th  of  February,  1758,  when  the  Admiral 
sailed  out  of  the  Solent  with  Wolfe  on  board  and  a 
fraction  of  the  army  which  was  to  operate  against 
Louisbourg.  The  rest  of  the  force  was  to  be  made 
up  by  troops  from  Loudon's  army  of  the  previous 
year,  which  were  waiting  at  Halifax.  Amherst  was 
to  follow  immediately.  Buffeted  by  winds  from  the 
very  outset,  and  forced  for  some  days  into  Plymouth, 
it  was  nearly  three  months  before  the  fleet  appeared 
in  Chebucto  Bay  and  dropped  anchor  in  Halifax  har- 
bour on  May  10th.  Quebec,  of  course,  was  in  the 
mind  of  Pitt  and  of  his  generals,  should  Fortune 
favour  them,  and  that  quickly,  at  Louisbourg ;  but  in 
the  matter  of  weather  she  had  so  far  been  the  reverse 
of  kind,  and  they  had  already  lost  a  month  out  of 
their  quite  reasonable  calculations.  Amherst  arrived 
a  fortnight  later,  and  with  a  fleet  of  nearly  200  ships 
of  all  kinds,  and  an  army  of  12,000  men,  sailed  out  of 
Halifax  harbour  and  bore  away  through  heavy  seas 
before  a  favouring  wind  to  Louisbourg.  On  June 
1st  the  soldiers  had  their  flrst  sight  of  "  the  Dunkirk 
of  the  North,"  lifting  its  formidable  ramparts  behind 
a  white  fringe  of  raging  surf. 

Louisbourg,  as  may  perhaps  have  been  already 
gathered,  was  no  town  such  as  Boston  or  New  York, 
or  even  Quebec  and  Montreal,  the  focus,  that  is  to 
say,  of  a  surrounding  civilization ;  but,  on  the  con- 
trary, it  stood  like  a  lone  oasis  between  a  shaggy 
wilderness  and  a  grey  sea,  the  sport  of  storms  and 
fogs.  It  counted  a  population  of  4,000  souls,  some 
of  whom  were  fish-merchants  and  some  priests,  but 
many  more  were  engaged  in  various  pursuits  con- 

216 


i» 


■'~1^, 


1758] 


L0UI8B0URG 


nected  with  the  trade  of  war.     Louisbourg,  indeed, 
scarcely  professed  to  represent  the  interests  of  peace ; 
it  exictsd  for  war  and  for  war  alone.     France,  at  the 
late  treaty,  had  strained  every  diplomatic  nerve  to 
recover  the  town  from  the  grip  of  the  New  Eng- 
land ers,  who  in  the  last  war,  with  the  help  of  a 
British  fleet,  had  seized  her  in  a  moment  of  com- 
parative weakness.    England,  deaf  to  the  cries  of  her 
colonial   subjects,   had  then  yielded,  and   was  now 
paying  the  price  of  her  blindness.    With  her  fine  har- 
bour, her  natural  defences,  her  commanding  situation 
in  the  northern  seas,  Louisbourg  only  existed  as  a 
menace  to  the  enemies  of  those  who  held  her,  a  refuge 
to  the  hunted,  a  rallying-point  for  the  hunters  of  the 
ocean ;  the  scourge  of  Nova  Scotia,  the  curse  of  the 
Newfoundland  and  New  England  coasts,  and  a  name 
as  familiar   then  in  Europe  as  it  is  now  forgotten. 
Since  its  restoration  to  France,  a  million  sterling  had 
been  spent  on  the  fortifications.     Franquet,  the  emi- 
nent engineer,  assisted  by  skilled  artificers,  had  done 
the  work,  and  from  behind  its  two-mile  circle  of  stone 
bastions   and    massive    curtains    of     well-mortared 
masonry  nearly  400  cannon  frowned  defiance  upon 
all  comers.    Drucour  was  now  governor,  while  about 
4,000  men,  mostly  French  or  Canadian  regulars,  in 
addition  to  the  same    number  of   inhabitants,  with 
a   year's    provisions,    awaited    Amherst  behind  the 
walls.       But    this    was    by  no  means  all,   for  the 
Sutherland,  of  sixty  guns,  met  the  British  fleet  in 
the   offing  with  the  news  that  seven  line-of-battle 
ships  and  five  frigates,  carrying  550  guns  and  3,000 
sailors,   were  at  anchor   in  the    harbour    to    assist 
in  the  defence. 
Louisbourg  harbour  was  some  seven  miles  in  cir- 

217 


1 


\ 


r4     1 1 


w-  ■    f, 


DEFENCES  OF  LOUISBOUBG     [1768 

cumference,  with  an  entry  so  blocked  with  reefs 
and  islands  that  the  actual  passage  was  not  half  a 
mile  in  width.  The  town  occupied  the  point  of  the 
promontory  which  guarded  the  western  mouth  of  the 
harbour,  and  formed  a  triangle :  one  side  being  lashed 
by  the  breakers  of  the  Atlantic,  the  other  washed 
by  the  land-locked  waters  of  the  harbour,  while  the 
third,  or  base,  facing  the  only  approach  by  land, 
was  the  most  strongly  fortified.  Goat  Island,  in 
the  centre  of  the  harbour  mouth,  commanded  the 
eastern  or  navigable  channel,  and  carried  a  battery. 
But  these,  after  all,  formed  only  a  portion  of  the 
strength  of  Louisbourg.  For  several  miles  to  the 
west,  the  only  side  from  which  a  force  could  to  any 
practical  purpose  be  landed  by  sea,  the  shores  of 
the  bay  of  Gabarus  presented  an  iron  barrier  of  cliffs 
and  reefs,  only  broken  here  and  there  by  narrow 
coves  that  could  be  readily  defended.  A  first  line  of 
defence  therefore  existed,  formidable  in  itself  to  any 
but  the  boldest  foe,  before  a  single  shell  could  be 
dropped  over  the  walls  of  the  town.  Each  of  these 
points  had  now  been  strongly  intrenched,  mounted 
with  batteries,  provided  with  pits  for  riflemen,  and 
protected  by  the  formidable  and  familiar  American 
method  of  felled  trees  laid  with  their  branches  out- 
ward. 

Amherst's  army  consisted  of  about  12,000  men, 
made  up  of  the  following  corps  : — The  15th  (Am- 
herst's), 17th  (Forbes'),  28th  (Bragg's),  35th  (Otway's), 
40th  (Hopson's),  47th  (Lascelles'),  48th  (Webb's),  58th 
(Anstruther's),  the  first  and  second  battalions  of 
the  60th  or  Royal  Americans,  and  the  63rd  (Fraser's 
EUghlanders) ;  there  were  also  five  companies  of 
rangers  and  artillery,  with  about  140  guns  of  varying 

218 


1758]  PREPARATIONS  FOR  LANDING 


men, 
(Am- 
ray's), 
58th 
)n8  of 
raser's 
ies  of 
trying 


calibre.  The  Highland  regiments  had  been  recently 
raised  by  Pitt,  to  whom  belongs  the  honour  of 
converting  the  late  enemies  of  the  British  Govern- 
ment into  battalions  that  were  to  prove  one  of 
the  most  formidable  of  its  weapons.  The  Royal 
Americans,  too,  whose  acquaintance  we  have  already 
made,  were  the  origin  of  battalions  no  less  famous 
in  British  annals.  Most  people,  I  fancy,  would  be 
surprised  to  hear  that  the  60th  Rifles  was  first  raised 
in  America,  and  consisted  not  merely  of  colonists, 
but  very  largely  of  German  colonists  ;  so  much  so, 
indeed,  that  it  was  found  advisable  to  procure  a 
number  of  officers  from  Switzerland  and  Germany 
who  could  speak  their  language.  Their  chief.  Colonel 
Bouquet,  was  a  Swiss,  an  extremely  able  and  accom- 
plished officer,  who  was  now  in  Pennsylvania  with 
Forbes,  and  of  whom  we  shall  hear  later.  He  has 
moreover  left  a  journal  of  his  doings  in  America 
which  is  well  worthy  of  perusal. 

Boscawen  had  twenty-three  ships  of  the  line  and 
seventeen  frigates,  and  it  was  the  2nd  of  June  before 
his  whole  fleet  arrived  off  the  town.  A  heavy  sea 
was  running,  and  the  rugged  shore  was  white  with 
an  unbroken  line  of  raging  surf.  Amherst,  however, 
with  Lawrence  and  Wolfe,  the  latter  still  suffering 
sorely  from  his  dire  enemy,  sea-sicknoss,  took  boat, 
and  rowing  along  the  coast  surveyed  it  through  their 
glasses.  There  were  only  three  places  at  which  a  land- 
ing was  possible,  even  when  the  weather  moderated, 
and  these,  it  was  seen,  were  all  strongly  intrenched. 
On  the  5th  the  wind  dropped  a  little,  but  gave  way 
to  a  fog,  which  was  even  worse.  On  the  6th  both 
wind  and  fog  moderated,  and  the  troops  were  placed 
in  the  boats;    but  the  wind  again  increasing,  they 

219 


WOLFE   LEADS  THE  ATTACK    [1758 


n    >' 


J    I 


were  ordered  back  to  the  ships.  The  sailors,  with 
all  the  will  in  the  world,  thought  gravely  of  any 
attempt  to  land.  Boscawen  sent  for  his  captains 
one  by  one,  and  they  were  all  inclined  to  shake  their 
heads.  A  fine  old  sea-dog,  however,  one  Ferguson, 
captain  of  a  sixty-gun  ship,  the  Prince^  would  have 
no  halting,  and  by  his  vehemence  turned  the  scale 
in  favour  of  prompt  action.  On  the  evening  of  the 
7th  the  wind  fell  slightly,  the  night  proved  clear, 
and  soon  after  midnight  the  men  were  once  more 
dropped  into  the  boats.  It  had  been  arranged  that 
the  attack  should  be  made  in  three  divisions  on 
three  separate  points.  Lawrence  and  Whitmore 
were  to  threaten  the  two  coves  nearer  the  town, 
while  Wolfe  made  the  actual  attack  on  Kennington 
Cove  or  Le  Coromandiere,  the  farthest  off,  the  most 
accessible,  but  also  the  most  strongly  defended,  and 
some  four  miles  distant  from  the  city. 

When  morning  broke  upon  the  short  summer 
night,  all  was  ready  for  a  start,  and  at  sunrise  the 
entire  fleet  opened  such  a  furious  cannonade  as  had 
never  been  heard  even  in  those  dreary  regions  of 
strife  and  tempest.  Under  its  cover  the  boats  pushed 
for  the  shore,  Wolfe  and  his  division,  as  the  chief  ac- 
tors in  the  scene,  making  for  the  left,  where,  in  Ken- 
nington Cove,  some  twelve  hundred  French  soldiers, 
with  a  strong  battery  of  guns,  lay  securely  intrenched 
just  above  the  shore  line  and  behind  an  abattis  of 
fallen  trees.  As  Wolfe's  boats,  rising  and  falling 
on  the  great  Atlantic  rollers,  drew  near  the  rocks, 
the  thunder  of  Boscawen's  guns  ceased,  and,  the 
French  upon  shore  still  reserving  their  fire  for 
closer  quarters,  there  was  for  some  time  an  ominous 
silence,  broken  only  by  the  booming  of  the  surf  as  it 

220 


It 


1758 

with 
[  any 
)tains 

their 
;uson, 

have 

scale 
3f  the 

clear, 

more 
i  that 
►ns  on 
itmore 

town, 
lington 
e  most 
ed,  and 

lummer 
ise  the 
as  had 
ions  of 
pushed 
lief  ac- 
n  Ken- 
loldiers, 
•enched 
[attis  of 
falling 
rocks, 
[nd,  the 
ire    for 
»minou8 
irf  as  it 


1758]        A  LANDING  EFFECTED 

leapt  up  the  cliffs  or  spouted  in  white  columns  ahove 
the  sunken  rocks.  Heading  for  the  narrow  heach, 
the  leading  hoats  were  within  a  hundred  yards  of  it 
when  the  French  batteries  opened  on  them  with  a 
fierce  hail  of  ball  and  round  shot.  Nothing  but  the 
heaving  of  the  sea,  say  those  who  were  there,  could 
have  saved  them.  Wolfe's  flagstaff  was  shot  away, 
and  even  that  ardent  soul  shrank  from  leading  his 
men  further  into  such  a  murderous  fire.  He  was 
just  signalling  to  his  flotilla  to  sheer  off,  when  three 
boats  on  the  flank,  either  unaware  of  or  refusing  to 
see  the  signal,  were  observed  dashing  for  a  rocky 
ledge  at  the  corner  of  the  cove.  They  were  com- 
manded by  two  lieutenants,  Hopkins  and  Brown,  and 
an  ensign,  Grant.  These  young  gentlemen  had  caught 
sight  of  a  possible  landing-place  at  a  spot  protected 
by  an  angle  of  the  cliff  from  the  French  batteries. 
Without  waiting  for  orders,  they  sent  their  boats 
through  the  surf,  and  with  little  damage  succeeded 
in  landing  on  the  slippery  rocks  and  scrambling  to 
temporary  shelter  from  the  French  fire. 

Wolfe,  at  once  a  disciplinarian  and  a  creature  of 
impulse,  did  not  stand  on  ceremony.  Feeling,  no 
doubt,  that  he  would  himself  have  acted  in  precisely 
the  same  fashion  as  his  gallant  subalterns  under  like 
conditions,  he  signalled  to  the  rest  to  follow  their  lead, 
setting  the  example  himself  with  his  own  boat.  The 
movement  was  successful,  though  not  without  much 
loss  both  in  boats  and  men.  The  surf  was  strong  and 
the  rocks  were  sharp  ;  many  boats  were  smashed  to 
pieces,  many  men  were  drowned,  but  the  loss  was  not 
comparable  to  the  advantage  gained.  Wolfe  himself, 
cane  in  hand,  was  one  of  the  first  to  leap  into  the 
surf.     These  were  not  the  men  of  Oswego,  of  Lake 

221 


r 


FRENCH  DRIVEN  IN 


[1758 


t 


George,  of  the  Monongahela,  of  the  Virginia  frontier. 
The  spirit  of  Pitt  was  already  abroad,  borne  by  the 
very  breakers  on  these  wild  Acadian  shores,  and 
burning  in  the  hearts  of  these  fierce  islanders,  who, 
like  their  Norse  ancestors  of  old,  came  out  of  the 
very  surf  to  wrest  dominion  from  their  ancient  foe. 
As  the  troops  came  straggling  out  upon  the  beach, 
full  of  ardour,  soaked  to  the  skin,  and  many  of  them 
badly  bruised,  Wolfe  formed  them  rapidly  in  column, 
routed  a  detachment  of  Grenadiers,  and  fell  im- 
mediately with  the  bayonet  upon  the  French  re- 
doubts. The  enemy,  though  picked  and  courageous 
troops,  were  taken  aback,  and  fled  without  much 
resistance.  They  had  seen  Amherst,  too,  with  re- 
inforcements, coming  up  behind  Wolfe,  and  above  all 
had  noted  ^he  flotillas  of  Whitmore  and  Lawrence 
between  them  and  the  city,  and  were  fearful  of  being 
cut  off  should  these  last  effect  a  landing.  The 
French  were  pursued  over  the  rocks  and  through 
the  scrubby  pine- woods  till  the  pursuers  came  within 
play  of  the  guns  of  Louisbourg,  which  opened  a 
heavy  fire  to  cover  the  retreat.  Over  a  hundred 
were  killed  or  taken  prisoners,  while  the  loss  of  the 
British  in  landing  was  not  much  less. 

Amherst  now  traced  the  lines  of  his  camp  along  a 
shallow  valley,  watered  by  a  small  stream,  which  was 
not  only  out  of  range  of  the  Louisbourg  guns,  but 
invisible  from  the  walls.  Here  he  proceeded  to  in- 
trench himself,  erecting  blockhouses  at  extremities 
where  an  attack  might  be  expected  from  Acadians  and 
Micmac  Indians,  with  which  the  wilderness  beyond 
was  thought  to  swarm.  The  sea,  however,  remained 
so  rough  that  it  was  some  days  before  the  troops  could 
get  their  tents,  stores,  and  lighter  guns  on  shore.     It 

222 


-> 


.  % 


'  * 


[1758 


Prontier. 
)  by  the 
'68,  and 
rs,  who, 
)  of  the 
lent  foe. 
3  beach, 
[>f  them 
column, 
fell  im- 
nch  re- 
rageous 
t  much 
sdth  re- 
bove  all 
iwrence 
)f  being 
r.  The 
through 
i  within 
»ened  a 
Lundred 
I  of  the 

9.1ong  a 
ich  was 
ms,  but 
[  to  in- 
'emities 
Ems  and 
beyond 
mained 
)s  could 
)re.     It 


1758]    WOLFE'S  LIGHT  INFANTRY 


was  not  till  about  the  17th,  when  the  weather  mode- 
rated, that  the  siege  guns  could  be  brought  from  the 
fleet.  Both  services  worked  with  a  will,  but  their 
difficulties  may  be  estimated  from  the  fact  that  over 
a  hundred  boats  were  destroyed  in  the  operation. 

The  French  now  drew  all  their  men  within  the 
fortifications.  A  large  battery  of  thirty  guns  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  harbour,  with  houses  and  fish 
stages,  was  destroyed  by  the  garrison  on  the  night 
of  the  British  landing,  and  a  great  conflagration  red- 
dened both  sky  and  sea.  The  guns  were  spiked,  as 
were  those  of  a  smaller  battery  at  the  eastern  point 
of  the  harbour's  mouth.  Wolfe  had  a  large  corps  of 
light  infantry,  picked  for  their  marksmanship  from 
various  regiments,  and  trained,  so  far  as  a  week  or 
two  at  Halifax  could  train  them,  in  tactics  that  be- 
came familiar  enough  later  on,  but  were  regarded  at 
the  time  as  quite  a  strange  innovation  on  the  part  of 
the  vigorous  and  eccentric  brigadier.  It  was  merely  a 
matter  of  advancing  in  loose  formation,  and  using  all 
the  inequalities  of  the  ground  for  protection,  coupled 
with  a  light  and  easy  costume  for  the  men,  namely 
a  short  jacket,  small  round  hat,  and  a  kind  of  light 
woollen  trouser,  cut  moderately  tight.  A  story  goes 
that  an  officer  who  was  regarded  as  somewhat  learned 
among  his  fellows  remarked  to  Wolfe  that  his  new 
corps  reminded  him  of  the  KapBoOxot  alluded  to  by 
Xenophon.  **  That  is  exactly  where  I  got  the  idea," 
replied  Wolfe ;  "  only  these  people  never  read  any- 
thing, and  consequently  believe  the  idea  to  be  a  novel 
one." 

Amherst's  first  move  was  to  send  Wolfe  with  his 
light  infantry  on  a  long,  rough  march  of  seven 
or  eight  miles  around  the  harbour  to  erect  some 

223 


4 


I 


GOAT  ISLAND  BATTERY  SILENCED  [1758 

batteries  upon  the  farther  shore,  the  necessary  g^uns 
being  despatched  by  water.  In  this  business,  not- 
withstanding the  scantiness  of  soil  and  the  absence 
of  suitable  timber,  he  was  so  alert  that  by  the  26th  he 
had  not  only  mounted  his  chief  battery  at  Lighthouse 
Point,  but  had  intrenched  all  his  men  in  safety  from 
the  fire  of  the  town  and  fleet,  which  had  been  fierce 
and  continuous,  and  furthermore  had  effectually 
silenced  the  formidable  French  battery  on  Goat 
Island  in  the  middle  of  the  harbour  entrance. 

There  was  nothing  now  to  prevent  Boscawen,  if 
he  so  chose,  from  sailing  in  with  his  whole  fleet,  so 
the  French  admiral,  Desgouttes,  rather  than  lose  all 
his  ships,  prudently  sunk  four  of  them  by  night  in  the 
channel,  to  protect  the  rest.     Wolfe,  in  the  meantime, 
had  been  writing  cheery  letters  to  Amherst,  telling 
him  of  his  progress,  and  greatly  jubilant  that  the 
French  fleet  were  now  "in  a  confounded  scrape.'* 
This  was  precisely  what   the  French   admiral  and 
his  officers  had  been  thinking  for  some  time,  and 
Desgouttes  had  urged  on  the  Governor  the  desira- 
bility of  getting  his  ships  off  while  there  was  yet  time. 
Drucour,  however,  thought  differently,  as  he  wanted 
the  ships  and  the  sailors  to  prolong  the  defence,  and 
so  prevent  the  besieging  army  from  either  proceeding 
to  Quebec  that  season,  or  from  helping  Abercromby 
against  Montcalm  at  Lake  George.     For  a  fortnight 
an  artillery  fire  had  been  steadily  proceeding  upon 
the  harbour  side,  while  to  the  westward,  where  the 
serious  attack  was  contemplated,  Amherst's  disposi- 
tions were   not   quite  ready,    the  engineering  diffi- 
culties being  considerable.     Wolfe,  having  done  his 
work,  now  hurried  back  to  the   main  lines,  wb'ch 
were  henceforward  to  be  the  chief  scene  of  '     '   s. 

224 


9. 


«•: 


t  i 


1758]    THE  BRITISH  APPROACHES 

An  extensive  marsh  stretched  away  from  the  walls 
of  Louisbourg  on  the  landward  side.     Beyond  this 
rolled  the  rugged,  broken  ground  in  which  the  British 
intrenchments  lay.     On  each  side  of  the  marsh,  how- 
ever, rocky  knolls  extended  up  close  to  the  defences 
of  the  town.     It  was  along  these  horns,  as  it  were, 
that  Amherst  had  to  push  his    bntteries  under  a 
heavy  fire.     With  rocky  hillocks  and  swampy  flats 
to  approach  over,  Amherst's  task  was  no  easy  one ; 
but  he  was  distinguished  for  patience  and  thr    >ugh- 
ness.     What  he  lacked  in  dash,  Wcli'e,  who  by  the 
27th   was   back  at  his    side,  most  amply  supplied. 
Thousands  of  men  toiled   night  and   day,  while   a 
hundred  big  guns  roared  with  tireless  throats  from 
the  massive  works  of  masonry  on  the  west  of  the 
town,  and  poured   shot  and  shell  upon  the  British 
working  parties  as  they  crept  gradually  nearer.    But 
the  pick,  the  shovel,  and  the  axe  proved  as  efficient 
in  defence   under    the    skilful   eyes   of    those  who 
directed  them    as   they  were   to  prove  formidable 
in  advance,   and  no  serious   loss  was  suffered.     A 
French  frigate,  the  Ar^thuae,  bravely  manned  and 
commanded,  was  stationed  in  a  western  angle  of  the 
harbour,  where  the  northern  wing  of  the  approaching 
invaders  could  be  reached,   and  proved  herself  ex- 
tremely troublesome.     She  stood  in  her  turn  a  vast 
deal  of  cannonading,  till  at  last  she  was  brought  o£F, 
her  shot  holes  plugged,  and  running  the  gauntlet  of 
the  British  fleet  in  a  fog,  she  bore  safely  away,  and 
carried  the  news  of  the  sore  plight  of   Louisbourg 
across  the  Atlantic. 

On  both  the  right  and  left  the  English  batteries 
were  now  pushed  forward  to  within  half  a  mile  of 
the  town,  and,  with  Wolfe  on  one  side  and  Lawrence 

225  Q 


i\ 


V, 


* 


SORTIES  REPULSED 


[1758 


on  the  other,  began  their  deadly  work.  Two  hun- 
dred big  guns  and  mortars,  plied  upon  both  sides  by- 
skilled  gunners,  shook  that  desolate  coast  with  such 
an  uproar  as  no  part  of  North  America  since  its 
first  discovery  had  ever  felt.  Twenty  thousand  disci- 
plined troops,  soldiers  and  sailors,  led  by  skilful  and 
energetic  commanders,  made  a  warlike  tableau,  the 
like  of  which  had  never  yet  been  seen,  with  all  the 
blood  that  had  been  spilled  between  the  Mississippi 
and  the  St.  Lawrence,  while  infinite  valour  animated 
both  sides.  On  July  6th,  a  sortie  was  made  upon  the 
advanced  trenches  on  the  British  left  which  was 
easily  repulsed.  Three  days  af  terw  ards  a  much  more 
serious  effort  was  pressed  by  a  thousand  men,  stimu- 
lated by  brandy,  the  English  accounts  say,  upon  the 
right.  The  British  Grenadiers  were  forced  back  out 
of  the  trenches,  fighting  desperately  with  the  bayonet 
in  the  dark.  "Wolfe  was  here,  revelling  in  the  bloody 
mSlee,  and  the  enemy  was  ultimately  driven  back  into 
the  town. 

At  this  time,  too,  the  long-threatened  attack  of 
Acadians  ani?  Indians,  out  of  the  wilderness  on  the 
left  flank,  was  delivered.  They  were  commanded  by 
Boisherbert,  a  partisan  leader  of  note,  but  v/ere  easily 
repulsed,  and  gave  little  further  troubla. 

On  July  16th,  Wolfe  made  a  rush  forward  and 
fortified  a  small  hill,  locally  famous  as  the  spot 
where  Louisbourg  malefactors  were  executed.  It 
was  only  three  hundred  yards  from  the  ramparts 
of  the  town,  and  the  artillery  fire  now  waxed  terrific. 

On  both  wings,  indeel,  the  British  advance  was 
pushed  so  close  that  gun  after  gun  was  dismounted 
on  the  Louisbourg  ramparts,  and  the  masonry  itself 
began  to  crack  and  crumble  in  all  directions,  while 

226 


/I 


1758]  A  TREMENDOUS  BOMBARDMENT 

British  soldiers  were  pressing  forward  to  the  very 
foot  of  the  glacis,  and  firing  upon  the  covered  way. 
On  the  21st,  one  of  the  French  ships  in  the  harbour, 
the  C4lhhre,  was  ignited  by  a  bomb,  and  the  flames 
spread  to  two  others.  The  British  batteries  on  the 
extreme  left  commanded  the  scene,  and  rained  such 
a  hail  of  balls  upon  the  flaming  decks  that  the  ships 
could  not  be  saved,  and  all  three  were  burnt  to  the 
water's  edge.  Shells,  round  shot  and  bombs  were 
now  falling  in  every  part  of  the  devoted  town. 
Nearly  all  tLo  sailors  of  the  fleet  were  with  the 
garrison,  and  all  the  townsmen  who  could  bear 
arms  helped  to  man  the  defences. 

There  had  been  a  little  earlier  some  friendly  ameni- 
ties between  besiegers  and  besieged.  Amherst  had 
sent  some  West  India  pineapples  to  Madame  Drucour, 
whom  an  uncertain  French  authority,  that  one  would 
like  to  believe,  declares  took  a  personal  part  in  the 
defence.  Madame  sent  back  a  basket  of  wine,  while 
Drucour  himself  offered  the  services  of  an  exception- 
ally skilful  physician  to  any  of  the  wounded  British 
officers  who  cared  to  avail  themselves  of  them.  But 
matters  had  got  too  serious  now  for  such  courtesies. 
On  the  22nd  the  chief  house  vyf  the  citadel,  where  the 
Governor  and  other  officials  were  living,  was  almost 
wholly  destroyed  by  fire.  A  thousand  of  the  garrison 
were  sick  or  wounded  and  were  cowering  in  wretched- 
ness and  misery  in  the  few  sheltered  spots  and  case- 
ments that  remained.  The  soldiers  had  no  refuge 
whatever  from  the  shot  and  shell.  Night  and  day — 
for  there  was  a  bright  moon — the  pitiless  rain  of  iron 
fell  upon  the  town,  which,  being  built  mostly  of  wood, 
was  continually  igniting  and  demanding  the  incessant 
labours  of  a  garrison  weakened  and  worn  out  by  the 

227 


* 


n 


H  ■    1 1 


iM  I 


V 


DESPERATE  STATE  OF  GARRISON  [1758 

necessity  of  sleepless  vigilance.  The  gallantry  of  the 
defence  equalled  the  vigour  of  the  attack,  and  was  all 
the  more  praiseworthy  seeing  how  hopeless  it  had 
become.  Only  two  ships  of  war  were  left  in  the 
harbour,  and  the  British  bluejackets,  who  had  been 
spectators  of  the  siege,  now  thought  they  saw  a  chance 
of  earning  some  distinction  for  their  branch  of  the 
service.  So  five  hundred  sailors,  in  boats,  running 
the  gauntlet  of  the  fire  from  the  town  upon  the 
harbour  side,  dashed  in  upon  the  Le  Bienfaiaant  and 
Le  Prudentf  overpowered  their  feeble  crews,  burnt 
the  latter  ship,  and  towed  the  other  one  into  a  corner 
of  the  harbour  secured  by  British  batteries.  The  har- 
bour was  now  cleared  of  French  shipping.  Another 
great  fire  had  just  occurred  in  the  town,  destroying 
the  barracks  that  had  been  an  important  point  of 
shelter.  The  bastions  on  the  land  t^ide  were  rapidly 
crumbling.  On  the  26th  less  than  half  a  dozen  guns 
were  feebly  replying  to  the  uproar  of  107  heavy 
pieces  firing  at  close  range  from  the  British  batteries, 
and  more  than  one  big  breach  in  the  walls  warned 
the  exhausted  garrison  of  the  imminence  of  an 
assault. 

A  council  of  war  was  now  called,  and  the  vote  was 
unanimous  that  a  white  flag  should  be  sent  to  Am- 
herst with  a  request  for  terms.  This  was  done  but 
when  Amherst's  answer  came,  the  opinion  was  equally 
unanimous  against  accepting  what  he  offered,  which 
was  unconditional  surrender  within  an  hour.  The 
officer  was  sent  back  again  to  urge  a  modification  of 
such  hard  conditions,  but  Amherst,  well  knowing  that 
he  had  Louisbourg  at  his  mercy,  refused  even  to  see 
the  envoy.  With  singular  courage,  seeing  that  no  relief 
waE!  possible,  the  French  officers  resolved  to  bear  the 

228 


I 


I   I 


1758]    SUBBEXDEB  OF  LOUISBOUBG 

brunt  of  the  attack,  and  Franquet,  the  engineer  who 
had  constructed  the  fortifications  with  de  la  Houli^re, 
the  commander  of  the  troops,  proceeded  to  select  the 
ground  for  a  last  stand.  But  the  townspeople  had 
no  mind  to  offer  themselves  up  as  victims  to  an  in- 
furiated soldiery,  for  they  remembered  Fort  William 
Henry,  and  dreaded  the  result.  The  Commissary- 
General  came  to  Drucour,  and  represented  that  what- 
ever might  be  the  feelings  of  the  military  with  regard 
to  their  professional  honour,  it  was  not  fair  to  sub- 
ject 4,000  citizens,  who  had  already  suffered  terribly, 
to  the  horrors  of  an  assault  upon  that  account  alone. 
He  pointed  out,  and  with  justice,  that  no  stain,  as  it 
was,  could  rest  on  the  garrison,  who  had  acquitted 
themselves  most  bravely  against  a  numerous  and 
formidable  foe,  and  his  arguments  had  effect.  The 
messenger,  who  for  some  cause  or  other  had  delayed 
in  his  mission,  was  overtaken  and  recalled,  and 
Amherst's  terms  accepted.  These  last  required  that 
all  the  garrison  should  be  delivered  up  as  prisoners 
of  war  and  transported  to  England.  The  non-com- 
batants were  at  liberty  to  return  to  France,  and  the 
sick  and  wounded,  numbering  some  1,200  were  to  bo 
looked  after  by  Amherst.  All  Cape  Breton  and  the 
adjacent  island  of  Saint  Jean  (now  the  fertile  pro- 
vince of  Prince  Edward),  with  any  small  garrisons 
or  stores  therein  contained,  were  to  be  given  up 
to  the  English. 

On  July  the  27th  the  French  troops  were  drawn 
up  on  parade  before  Whitmore,  and,  with  gestures 
of  rage  and  mortification,  laid  down  their  arms  and 
filed  gloomily  off  to  the  ships  that  were  to  take  them 
to  England.  5,637  prisoners,  soldiers  and  sailors,  were 
included  in  the  surrender.    About  240  sound  pieces  of 

229 


m\ 


DEMOLITION  OF  LOUISBOURG    [1758 

cannon  and  mortars,  with  a  large  amount  of  ammuni- 
tion and  stores,  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  victors. 
The  French  fleet  in  attendance  was  totally  destroyed, 
and  French  power  upon  the  North  Atlantic  coast 
ceased  to  exist. 

With  Halifax  so  near,  possessing,  as  it  did,  an  even 
better  harbour,  an  already  firm  British  establishment 
and  a  good  tributary  country,  there  was  evidently  no 
need  for  such  a  place  as  Louisbourg.  So  to  place  it 
more  entirely  out  of  the  reach  of  all  enemies,  the 
British  Government  decided  upon  its  destruction. 
Two  years  after  this,  in  1760,  a  great  crowd  of  work- 
men, navvies  and  soldiers,  toiled  continuously  for  six 
months  at  the  task  of  demolition,  and  the  busy, 
famous  warlike  town  was  in  this  strange  fashion 
wiped  out  of  existence.  Never  again  could  a  short 
sighted  English  Government,  blind  to  its  greater  in- 
terests, because  these  were  not  in  the  Mediterranean 
or  the  English  Channel,  reinstate  by  treaty  a  French 
garrison  in  Cape  Breton.  To-day  a  collection  of 
fishermen's  huts  by  the  shore  is  nearly  all  that  is 
left  of  this  great  stronghold  of  French  power  in 
the  days  when  a  mighty  colonial  future  lay  within 
her  grasp.  Short  by  comparison  as  is  the  story  of 
the  New  World,  he  would  be  a  dull  soul  who  could 
stand  unmoved  by  that  deserted,  unvisited,  surf- 
beaten  shore,  where  you  may  still  trace  upon  the  turf 
the  dim  lines  of  once  busy  streets,  and  mark  the 
green  mounds  which  hide  the  remains  of  the  great 
bastions  of  Louisbourg.  It  has  not  been  given  in 
modern  times  to  many  centres  of  note  and  power  to 
enjoy  within  the  short  space  of  a  century  and  a  half 
at  once  such  world-wide  fame  and  such  profound 
oblivion. 

230 


1! 


1768]     REJOICINGS  IN  ENGLAND 


CHAPTER  VIII 

WHEN  Captain  Amhorst,  bearing  his  brother's 
despatches,  arrived  in  England  with  the  news 
of  the  fall  of  Louisbourg  and  laid  the  captured  French 
standards  at  the  king's  feet,  the  nation,  long  accus- 
tomed to  reverses,  broke  out  into  a  wild  frenzy  of  joy. 
With  beat  of  drum  and   flourish  of   trumpets,  the 
French  flags  were  carried,  through  crowds  of  shout- 
ing citizens,  from  Kensington  Palace  to  St.  Paul's,  and 
there  deposited  with  a  faint  echo  of  the  long  tempest 
of   artillery     which    had     preceded    their    capture. 
The  country,  too,  had  just  been  plunged  in  mourning 
by  news  of  the  disaster  of  Ticonderoga  which  has  to 
be  related  in  this  chapter;  and  the  revulsion  of  feel- 
ing accounted  no   doubt   in   part  for   its   excessive 
exultation.     Bonfires  flared  and  church  bells  pealed 
from  John-o-Groat's  to  the  Land's  End,  while  addresses 
of  congratulation  poured  in  upon  the  king  from  every 
quarter.     American  troops  had  taken  a  very  small 
part  in  this  achievement ;  but  if  this  fact  in  any  way 
damped  the  joy  of  the  colonies  at  a  victory  which 
was  more  precious  to  them  even  than  to  the  mother 
country  they  did  not  show  it.     Each  city  celebrated 
the  occasion  in  its  own  characteristic  fashion.     Bos- 
ton by  a  flood  of  pulpit  eloquence,  New  York  with 
cakes  and  ale,  and  a  prodigious   amount  of  toast- 
drinking,   while  the  peace-at-any-price  element   of 

231 


AMHERST  GOES  TO  NEW  YORK    [1758 


, '  t 


<l   »ii 


Philadelphia  were  well  content  to  let  the  more 
worldly  portion  of  its  community  indulge,  like  the 
rest,  in  bonfires  and  rockets.  It  was  not  till  long 
after  Boston  and  New  York  had  completed  their 
rejoicings  for  the  victory,  says  Captain  Knox,  that 
news  of  it  reached  the  lonely  forts  upon  the  western 
coast  of  Nova  Scotia,  where  he  and  his  comrades 
were  eating  their  hearts  out  among  mosquitoes, 
black  flies,  and  scalp-hunters. 

At  the  fall  of  Louisbourg,  Wolfe  was  ardent  to 
push  on  at  once  to  Quebec.  Boscawen  and  Amherst 
would  probably  have  consented,  with  such  a  strong 
naval  and  military  force  at  their  disposal.  It  is  idle, 
however,  to  speculate  on  what  their  decision  might 
have  been,  or  what  their  chances  of  success,  for  news 
had  come  to  Louisbourg  as  to  London,  which  made  it 
plain  that  one  more  "  Incapable  "  had  to  be  removed, 
before  the  road  to  success  was  cleared  of  obstacles. 
Amherst  had  now  to  hasten  away  to  New  York  and 
to  Abercromby's  assistance  with  several  regiments, 
leaving  Whitmore  in  charge  of  Louisbourg,  and  Wolfe 
to  ravage  the  coast-villages  of  the  St.  Lawrence  gulf, 
a  task  he  makes  wry  enough  faces  over  in  his  letters 
home. 

Pitt  had  this  year  appealed  to  the  colonies  for  a 
force  of  20,000  men,  to  operate  against  Canada.  The 
northern  provinces,  particularly  those  of  New  Eng- 
land, had  already  made  great  and  creditable  exertions. 
Massachusetts  was  easily  the  foremost  in  this  spirited 
competition,  and  had  pledged  her  credit  to  the  extent 
of  half  a  million  sterling,  a  heavy  burden  on  her 
finances,  for  in  Boston  the  taxes  had  risen  to  13«.  in 
the  pound  on  real  and  personal  estate.  Connecticut 
was  but  little  behind,  while   the  small  province  of 

232 


I 


1758] 


PROVINCIAL  LEVIES 


New  Hampshire  placed  one  in  three  of  her  adult 
males  in  the  field.  These  northern  colonies,  includ- 
ing New  Jersey  and  New  York,  replied  to  Pitt's 
appeal  with  an  actual  force  of  17,480  men,  7,000  of 
whom  were  supplied  by  Massachusetts.  Poor  Shirley 
had  been  long  recalled,  and  ill-requited,  for  his  public 
spirit ;  not  so  m.u?h,  perhaps,  because  he  had  made 
mistakes,  as  that  he  had  provoked  jealousy  among 
rivals  even  less  successful.  Governor  Pownall 
now  reigned  in  his  stead  over  the  Puritan  Common- 
wealth, and  took  some  steps  this  year  to  make  the 
officers  of  its  willing,  if  not  very  formidable,  militia 
more  effective  disciplinarians.  When  a  corps  of 
picked  rangers,  or  woodsmen  destined  for  special 
service,  elected  their  own  officers,  the  results  were 
excellent ;  but  when  the  militia  of  a  rural  democracy 
steeped  in  village  politics,  followed  the  same  system, 
it  was  a  very  different  matter.  The  notion  that  a 
private  was  as  good  as  his  captain,  even  if  some- 
times justified  by  facts,  did  not  conduce  to  success,  in 
the  face  of  Montcalm's  veteran  regiments.  A  great 
improvement  in  this  particular  was  now  introduced 
by  methods  which  do  not  directly  concern  us  here, 
^r''^  Abercromby  was  at  Albany,  the  inevitable  base 
'  of  all  operations,  by  May  11th,  but  the  usual  delays, 
in  getting  the  colonial  troops  into  the  field  occurred^ 
and  they  were  not  all  assembled  till  the  end  of  June* 
There  was  always  a  deficiency  in  arms,  tents,  and 
clothing,  and  it  was  the  remedying  of  this  that,  as- 
usual,  caused  the  delay.  But,  ^hen  all  was  at  length 
finished,  the  force  upon  Lake  George  was  not  only 
powsx'ful  but  in  every  respect  complete,  and  its- 
chances  of  success  seemed  practically  assured.  It 
wanted  only  a  general. 

233 


I' 


ALBANY 


[1758 


r.r   n 


^:  i ' 


Albany  was  quite  a  unique  town  in  colonial 
America.  Mrs.  Grant,  of  Laggan,  in  her  Memoirs  of 
an  American  Lady,  has  left  us  a  delightful  picture 
of  this  home  of  her  youth,  at  a  period  corresponding 
about  exactly  with  the  one  now  treated  of.  The 
daughter  of  a  Scotch  officer,  she  was  brought  up  in 
the  household  of  that  very  famous  colonial  lady, 
"Aunt  Schuyler,"  returning  in  after  years  to  resi- 
dence and  marriage  in  her  native  country.  She  was 
advanced  in  life  when  she  wrote  the  two  small  vol- 
umes which  have  been  the  delight  of  all  students  of 
old  colonial  life ;  and  this,  no  doubt,  accounts  for 
certain  inaccuracies.^  When,  in  the  summer  of  1758, 
the  luckless  Abercromby  gathered  over  20,000  regular 
and  provincial  troops  at  Albany,  it  was  still  a  purely 
Dutch  town.  There  was  a  small  handful  of  cultivated 
aristocratic  families,  like  the  Schuylers,  owning  large 
estates,  fine  houses,  well  furnished  with  old  china, 
plate,  and  well-painted  pictures  brought  from  the  low 
countries ;  and  there  were  the  numerous  burghers  of 
the  town,  of  lower  station,  and  nearly  all  interested 
in  the  Indian  trade — simple,  kindly,  and  religious, 
though  by  no  means  austere  folk,  according  to  our 
authoress.    Every  well-to-do  family  owned  house  ne- 

*  Dr.  Kalm,  the  Swedish  traveller  and  scientist,  who  visited 
Albany  more  than  once  about  this  period,  gives  a  very  different 
picture  of  the  burghers.  He  declares  it  was  the  only  place  in  his 
wide  travels  in  North  America  where  he  was  consistently  cheated. 
He  says,  moreover,  that  the  Dutch  traders  did  not  scruple  to  buy 
the  plunder  of  ravaged  New  England  homesteads  from  the  Indians, 
arousing  thereby  such  fierce  resentment  among  the  New  Englan- 
ders  that  they  had  more  than  once  threatened  to  make  an  example 
of  Albany  and  its  inhabitants.  Nor  can  the  Doctor  account  for 
the  remarkable  difference  which  he  describes  as  notorious  between 
the  morals,  manners,  and  habits  of  the  Albanians  and  the  Dutch 
cf  the  lower  country,  whom  he  entirely  approves  of. 

234 


1758]       DUTCH  LIFE   IN  ALBANY 


groes,  whom  they  treated  with  the  same  consideration, 
and  even  affection,  as  the  best  families  of  Virginia 
treated  their  household  servants  :  "  Slavery  softened 
to  a  smile  "  Mrs.  Grant  calls  it.  The  town  consisted  of 
one  very  long  street,  running  parallel  with  the  river, 
and  another  meeting  this  in  the  centre  at  right  angles, 
while  others  less  important  branched  out  to  the 
right  and  left.  The  houses  were  even  then  mostly  of 
brick,  their  gable  ends,  built  Dutch  fashion,  fronting 
the  street,  and  containing  the  front  door  with  its 
*•  stoop,"  where  the  family  sat  on  summer  evenings, 
while  rows  of  maple  trees  rustled  by  the  sidewalk. 
Every  house  had  a  roomy  garden  and  one  or  more 
cows,  which  were  driven  home  at  morning  and  even- 
ing from  the  common  pasture-land  to  be  milked. 
The  old  dislike  of  the  English  had  greatly  softened 
among  the  burgher  class,  and  was  practically  dead 
among  the  patroon  set,  who  went  to  New  York  in  the 
season,  had  an  English  Episcopal  church  in  Albany, 
and  gave  generously,  both  in  blood  and  money  and 
hospitality,  to  the  English  cause,  which  was,  in  fact, 
their  own.  Three  years  of  military  occupation,  how- 
ever, played  sad  havoc  with  the  Arcadian  simplicity  of 
Albany  as  Mrs.  Grant  paints  it.  It  was  in  vain  that 
the  heads  of  households  tried  to  discriminate  in  their 
hospitalities  between  the  serious  and  the  frivolous 
among  the  officers.  The  younger  generation  could 
not  resist  the  gay,  play-acting  young  ensigns  and 
captains,  covered  with  lace  and  gold ;  and  fell  into  all 
their  strange  and  dubious  amusements  with  a  facility 
that  was  deplorable  in  the  eyes  of  their  elders.  The 
Dutch  ministers,  we  are  told,  after  months  of  pulpit 
protestations  gave  up  their  flocks  in  despair ;  and  the 
Puritan   traditions  of   the   place  —  which  was   now 

235 


f\l 


.'i 


i  J 


i 


FOREST  WARFARE 


[1758 


^n 


H    " 


n 


1^' 


^ 


nearly  a    hundred    years    old  —  were   permanently 
shaken.      Indeed,   one  may  well  imagine   that   the 
social  ethics  of    the   second  George's   reign,  turned 
loose  upon  a  town   that,  though    Puritan,  and    un- 
sophisticated,   possessed    much    capacity  for   enjoy- 
ment, created  a  vast  commotion.     With  the  army, 
too,  came  all  sorts  of  people,  officially  or  commercially 
engaged  in  ministering   to   its   wants,   and   the  old 
burghers  shook  their  heads  at  this  flood  of  innova- 
tion from  the  outer  world.     All  good  people,  how- 
ever, have  their  failings,  and  the  Puritan   variety 
has  been  ever  inclined  to  allow  himself  a  special  code 
in  the  matter  of  achieving  a  bargain.     The  innocent 
Albanians  had  carried  this  to  such  lengths  with  the 
Indians  that  the  shaky  attitude  of   the  six  nations 
towards   the   British   was  chiefly   their   handiwork. 
Lastly,  we  get  vivid  glimpses  of  the  great  dislike  felt 
by  the  people  of  the  other  colonies,  whether  English 
or  Dutch,  to  those  of  New  England.     New  England, 
however,  may  well  have  been  consoled  by  the  fact, 
that   if    she  was    unloved    by  her  neighbours  she 
alone  was   regarded  by  the  French,  in  a  military 
sense,  with  something  like  respect. 
(  Woodland  fighting  between  the  Bangers  of  both 
sides  was  going  savagely  on,  while  the  more  serious 
warfare  was  labouring  for  a  start.     All  the  forts 
upon  the  Hudson,  north  of  Albany,  and  those  in  the 
valley  of  the  Mohawk  were  manned,   and  on  the 
watch.     All  the  notable  guerilla  leaders,  French  and 
British, — men  of  valour  rather  than  of  virtue,  most 
of    them — were    out    upon    the    war-path.     British 
officers  shared  frequently  in  these  dangerous  ven- 
tures, not  as  leaders  having  authority,  but  as  humble 
students  in  the  art  of  forest  warfare,  under  men  like 

236 


1758] 


ABEBOBOMBT'S  ABMT 


Stark  and  Rogers ;  and  their  inexperience  not  seldom 
cost  them  their  lives  in  fights  h  Voutrance^  where 
quarter  was  neither  asked  nor  given  and  scalps  were 
a  valuable  asset.  > 

It  was  near  the  middle  of  June  when  Abercromby 
gathered  together  at  Fort  Edward  the  forces  he 
was  to  lead  against  Ticonderoga.  The  site  of  Fort 
William  Henry  was  now,  as  ever,  the  front  of  the 
British  position.  A  stockade  had  been  erected  both 
there  and  upon  the  adjoining  hill,  where  the  mas- 
sacre of  the  preceding  year  had  taken  place,  and 
was  strongly  garrisoned,  while  the  energetic  Brad- 
street,  wisely  placed  in  charge  of  all  the  transport, 
with  800  boatmen  under  him,  had  prepared  nearly 
1,500  craft  of  various  sorts  for  the  passage  of  the 
army  down  Lake  George. 

Now  at  last  all  was  ready  for  the  embarkation  of 
the  greatest  armament  that  had  ever  darkened  the 
surface  of  an  American  lake.  Abercromby  had  with 
him,  in  round  numbers,  6,300  regulars  and  9,000 
provincials,  including  batteau  men.  (With  the  for- 
mer were  the  27th  regiment  (Blakeney's),  the  42nd 
Highlanders,  the  44th  (Abercromby's),  the  46th 
(Murray's),  the  55th  (Lord  Howe's),  two  battalions 
of  the  60th  (Royal  Americans),  and  Gage's  Light 
Infantry.)  The  hopes  of  the  colonies  ran  high. 
They  haa  made  great  efforts,  and  never  had  so  large 
or  so  well-equipped  a  force  been  collected  under  one 
command  in  America.  Abercromby  was  something 
of  an  unknown  quality,  but  his  organizing  powers 
had  given  good  promise ;  while  Lord  Howe,  who  was 
with  him,  had  won  golden  opinions  upon  all  sides,  and 
greatly  endeared  himself  to  the  colonists.  He  stood 
somewhat  on  the  same  platform  as  Wolfe,  and  was 

237 


X- 


\' 


i 


?■ 


h 


i 


\h 


;1 


i 


m 

/     ! 


• 


LORD  HOWE 


[1758 


about  three  years  older.  The  latter  declares,  in  a  let- 
ter, that  he  is  "  the  best  officer  in  the  British  army  " ; 
while  Pitt  himself  is  scarcely  less  emphatic.  Howe 
was,  in  fact,  not  only  a  fine  soldier,  but  was  wholly 
free  from  the  narrow-minded  prejudices  that  made 
the  average  British  officer  tread  upon  the  corns  of  his 
colonial  brother  in  arms  almost  whenever  he  met 
him.  He  was  gifted  with  a  precious  intuition, — rare 
now,  and  much  rarer  then, —  which  realized  that  there 
might  be  social  excellence  outside  that  f  ocussed  in  St. 
James's,  and  military  worth  in  homespun  coat»  and 
hunting  shirts.  He  grasped  at  once  the  colonial  point 
of  view,  a  result  not  often  achieved  under  a  term  of 
years  by  Englishmen  even  in  our  enlightened  day,  and 
was,  in  consequence,  as  much  beloved  by  the  colonists 
as  by  his  own  men,  and  they  would  have  followed 
him  anywhere.  He  admired  the  Rangers  and  studied 
their  tactics.  He  saw  that  the  Englishman  was 
prone  to  be  somewhat  heavy,  pedantic,  and  elaborate 
in  his  movements,  and  slow,  as  he  is  even  now,  to 
seize  the  often  rough-and-ready  methods  of  expe- 
diting matters  in  a  new  country.  He  snipped  off  the 
long  coat-tails  of  the  infantry,  browned  their  shining 
gun-barrels,  cut  their  hair  short,  and  improved  their 
leg-gear :  adding  both  comfort  and  speed  to  the  poor 
fellows'  progress  through  the  hot  and  dense  woods. 
He  not  only  set  an  example  of  good  manners  to  his 
officers  in  their  behaviour  to  the  people  of  the 
country,  but  was  rigid  in  cutting  down  superfluous 
baggage,  going  so  far  as  to  wash  his  own  linen  and 
eat  his  dinner  with  a  clasp  knife,as  an  example  to  his 
subordinates.  And  yet,  so  mysterious  are  the  ways  of 
Providence,  that  he  was  killed  by  the  very  first  shot 
fired  in  an  enterprise  which  some  men  said  depended 

238 


[1768 

res,  in  a  let- 
itish  army  " ; 
atic.     Howe 
was  wholly 
that  made 
corns  of  his 
ver  he  met 
ition, — rare 
d  that  there 
iussed  in  St. 
a  coat»  and 
lonial  point 
>r  a  term  of 
ed  day,  and 
be  colonists 
'■e  followed 
and  studied 
hman  was 
i  elaborate 
en  now,  to 
J   of  expe- 
ped  ofip  the 
eir  shining 
•oved  their 
rO  the  poor 
ise  woods, 
ners  to  his 
le  of    the 
uperfluous 
linen  and 
(iple  to  his 
le  ways  of 
first  shot 
depended 


■E 


T' 


■  ) 


U' 


H 


Bntjih        .         ^'' 
Attaching   /^^ 


cont/eroga 


The  Attack  ^n 
TICONDEROGA 
July  8*±'  1758 


1758] 


MONTCALM'S   POSITION 


on  his  leadership.  In  the  meanwhile,  a  word  must 
be  said  of  what  was  happening  all  this  time  with  the 
French  at  Ticonderoga. 

De  Vaudreuil  had  cherished  designs  of  his  own 
against  the  Mohawk  valley  by  way  of  Lake  Ontario, 
and  had  weakened  his  none  too  numerous  foi'ces  by 
dividing  them.  He  was  anxious,  too,  about  Quebec, 
in  the  event  of  the  fall  of  Louisbourg.  Bourlamaque, 
however,  was  at  the  stone  fort  at  Ticonderoga  with 
the  regiments  of  La  Reine,  Guienne,  and  B^arn,  some 
Canadian  regulars,  and  a  few  militia.  Montcalm  had 
hurried  down  there  with  further  reinforcements, 
comprising  the  battalions  of  La  jSarre  and  De  Berry. 
L^vis  had  been  sent  westward  by  de  Vaudreuil,  but 
was  hastily  recalled  when  even  that  prodigious  egotist 
admitted  that  a  great  ciisis  was  impending.  The 
French  force  with  Montcalm  was  but  little  over  3,000 
men,  though  these  3,000,  to  be  sure,  were  of  the  very 
best. 

A  reference  to  the  map  will  remind  the  reader  of 
the  topography  of  this  memorable  position.  Fort 
Carillon,  or  Ticonderoga,  will  be  seen  on  the  point 
at  the  head  of  Lake  Champlain,  just  where  the 
little  river,  having  circled  round  its  eight-mile  bend, 
comes  hurrying  from  Lake  George.  The  middle  four 
miles  of  this,  it  will  bo  remembered,  were  unnavi- 
gable  rapids,  and  a  road,  forming  as  it  were  the  string 
of  a  bow,  had  been  cut  from  the  head  to  the  foot  of 
this  shallow  water.  At  the  foot  of  the  rapids,  whence 
boats  could  float  into  Lake  Champlain,  and  two  miles 
abo""e  the  fort,  was  a  saw  mill  and  a  bridge.  Here 
I'fontcalm  awaited  news,  sending  a  force  to  occupy 
t;ie  Lake  George  or  upper  end  of  the  rapids,  and  a 
party  of  300  into  the  woods  beyond,  to  report  on  the 

239 


I  ■ 


^ 


.  I 


THE  FRENCH  ENTRENCHMENTS    [1758 

movements  of  the  English.  fLarge  as  Abercromby's 
army  actually  was,  its  numbers  were  exaggerated 
by  scouts  and  Indians,  and  Montcalm  may  well 
be  excused  if  even  his  stout  heart  began  to  sink. 
French  tactics  had  usually  been  wise.  But  this  year 
Montcalm  hpd  been  over-ruled,  and  de  Vaudreuil 
outwitted.  By  every  law  of  human  chance  Montcalm 
had  only  one  hope,  namely,  in  retreating  as  rapidly 
as  he  could.  But  recent  experiences  had  taught  him 
there  was  one  chance  not  allowed  for  in  the  rules  of 
war,  and  that  was  in  King  George's  generals,  and 
he  boldly  decided  to  count  upon  it. 

He  heard  that  the  army  had  embarked  from  Wil- 
liam Henry,  leaving  him,  therefore,  about  two  days 
for  preparations.  He  longed  for  L^vis,  who  was  ex- 
pected hourly,  and,  in  the  meantime,  there  was  much 
discussion  as  to  the  best  spot  for  resistance.  The 
stone  fort  was  voted  out  of  the  question,  as  being 
too  small,  and  overlooked,  moreover,  by  Rattlesnake 
Mountain.  Crown  Point  was  thought  of,  but  the  day 
advanced,  and  some  definite  decision  was  urgent,  in 
the  face  of  such  fearful  odds.  Bourlamaque  and  his 
men  had,  in  the  meanwhile,  been  recalled  from  the 
Lake  George  end  of  the  rapids,  where  the  English 
were  expected  to  land,  and  the  bridge  destroyed.  The 
entire  army,  officers  and  men,  now  set  to  work,  with 
axe  and  pick  and  shovel,  to  carry  out  the  plan  which 
at  the  last  hour  was  agreed  upon. 

Fort  Carillon,  or  Ticonderoga,  stood  near  the  point 
of  a  high  promontory,  with  the  mouth  of  the  river 
on  one  side  and  Lake  Champlain  on  the  other.  The 
ridge  which  formed  it  ran  inland  for  some  distance, 
leaving  a  strip  of  densely  wooded  swamp  on  either  side, 
between  its  slope  and  the  water  s  edge,  and  along 

240 


I 


1758]   EMBARKATION  OF  THE  BRITISH 

this  ridge  only  was  it  easy  of  access  from  the  land 
side.  Here,  some  half-mile  from  the  fort,  by  the  in- 
finite labour  of  the  whole  army,  and  in  an  incredibly 
short  space  of  time,  was  thrown  up  an  intrenchment, 
impregnable  to  anything  but  artillery.  The  crest  of 
the  ridge  was  lined  with  a  solid  wall  of  tree  trunks, 
piled  one  above  another  to  a  height  of  eight  or  nine 
feet,  and  traced  in  zigzag  fashion,  so  that  its  face 
could  be  enfiladed  from  any  point.  The  ground,  even 
ill  the  front,  sloped  away,  while  on  the  sides  towards 
the  marshes  it  was  steep  and  r^cky.  For  the  space 
of  a  musket-shot  in  front,  the  dense  forest  had  been 
cut  down,  the  trees  lying  in  tangled  confusion  as  they 
had  fallen.  Immediately  before  the  breastwork,  and 
constituting  the  most  formidable  barrier  of  all,  layers 
of  large  trees  had  been  laid,  with  their  tangled 
branches  facing  outward  to  the  foe,  twined  together, 
and  sharpened  at  the  points.  This  work  was  begun 
upon  the  morning  of  the  7th,  and  was  only  just 
completed  when  Abercromby  delivered  his  attack, 
upon  the  morning  of  the  8th  ;  Levis  having  just 
arrived  with  400  men,  bringing  Montcalm's  force  up 
to  3,600  of  all  arriS. 

In  the  meantime,  with  such  pomp  and  circum- 
stance of  war  as  had  never  been  witnessed,  even 
from  the  bloodstained  shores  of  this  romantic  lake, 
Abercromby  had  embarked  upon  tho  enterprise 
which  no  man  thought  could  by  uny  possibility 
again  miscarry.  It  was  July  the  5th,  and  the  very 
week  in  which  those  despairing  sorties  of  the  French 
from  Louisbourg  heralded  their  approaching  defeat, 
when  the  British  flotilla  crowded  out  on  to  the  sur- 
face of  Lake  George.  Tho  pages  of  historian  and 
novelist  alike  glow,  when  they  recall  the  splendour 

241  B 


A  GLORIOUS  PAGEANT 


[1758 


of  this  notable  scene.  The  faded  types  of  old  colonial 
journals,  the  yellow  tattered  letters,  written  at  the 
time  by  those  who  saw  it,  all  testify  to  the  glories  of 
such  a  pageant  as  is  not  often  spread  before  the  eyes 
of  men.  Many  who  have  never  set  actual  eyes  upon 
Lake  George,  will  have  surely  visited  it  time  and 
again  with  those  fascinating  companions  whom  Feni- 
more  Cooper  provided  for  their  youthful  fancy,  will 
have  stood  upon  its  shores  with  Guert  Ten  Eyck  and 
Corny  Littlepage,  or  pierced  the  mysteries  of  the 
surrounding  forest  with  the  wily  Uncas  and  the 
resourceful  Leather-stocking. 

On  this  memorable  July  morning  twelve  hundred 
boats,  laden  with  troops  and  munitions  of  war, 
stretched  like  a  vast  armada  across  the  bosom  of  the 
lake.  The  summer  dawn  was  brilliant  and  cloudless. 
The  sun  had  just  risen  over  the  mountain  tops,  and 
chased  away  the  mists  that  night  had  gathered  along 
the  swampy  shores.  Not  a  breath  of  air  was  stirring 
on  the  water,  not  a  ripple  ruffling  the  silver  sheen  of 
its  surface  ;  nor  over  that  illimitable  sea  of  woodland, 
which  swept  upwards  in  successive  waves  from  the 
island-studded  shores,  caiue  breeze  enough  to  move  a 
blossom  or  a  leaf.  With  regular  precision,  its  wings 
stretching  to  right  and  left,  and  as  the  narrow  lake 
grew  narrower,  reaching  almost  from  bank  to  bank, 
the  splendid  pageant  swept  slowly  northwards.  In 
the  centre  were  the  British  regiments,  all  gay  in  scarlet 
and  white  and  gold.  Upon  the  right  and  left  and  in 
the  rear  went  the  colonial  troops,  in  blue  and  red.  In 
the  front  was  the  gallant  Bradstreet,  with  his  sailors 
and  axemen,  in  soberer  guise,  and  Gage's  light  in- 
fantry, with  their  strange  caps  and  short  jackets  and 
moustachioed  faces. 

242 


I 


1758 

lonial 
kt  the 
ies  of 
9  eyes 

upon 
e  and 

Feni- 
|r,  will 
sk  and 
)f  the 
id  the 

indred 
war, 
of  the 
udless. 
38,  and 
1  along 
tirring 
een  of 
)dland« 
)m  the 
tiove  a 
I  wings 
w  lake 
) bank, 
is.     In 
scarlet 
and  in 
ed.    In 
sailors 
jht  in- 
Bts  and 


1758]    LANDING  OF  THE  BRITISH 

From  the  whole  dense  flotilla  came  the  glint  and 
flash  of  burnished  arms,  and  above  the  boats,  at  in- 
tervals, hung  the  standards  of  famous  regiments, 
impatient  to  inscribe  some  American  triumph  on 
their  folds,  while  the  brave  show  of  over  a  thousand 
tartans — those  of  the  "  Black  Watch  " — filled  in  the 
picture.  Ten  thousand  oars,  with  measured  beat, 
caught  the  sunlight ;  and  the  bands  of  various  regi- 
ments, with  their  martial  music,  woke  the  echoes 
of  the  mountains,  which,  as  the  lake  narrowed,  lifted 
high  above  it,  upon  either  side,  their  leafy  sides 
and  rocky  crests.  Many  a  man  went  proudly  down 
Lake  George  that  day  beneath  the  flag  of  England 
who,  twenty  years  later,  was  upon  this  very  spot 
to  be  found  turning  his  sword  against  his  mother 
country  a  :d  his  king.  Lee  was  there,  a  hot-tempered 
British  captain,  and,  curiously  enough,  of  marked  un- 
popularity among  the  provincials ;  Starke  and  Israel 
Putnam,  too,  were  present,  hardy  and  conspicuous 
riflemen  from  New  England  frontier  farms ;  and 
Philip  Schuyler,  Dutch  gentleman  and  patroon^  now 
leading  a  New  York  company,  and  some  day  to  be 
Washington's  favourite  general,  and  Alexander 
Hamilton's  father-in-law.  Now,  however,  the  French 
peril  bad  crushed  out  for  the  moment  such  germs  of 
future  movements  as  had  already,  in  vague  fashion, 
taken  root.  With  France  upon  her  flanks,  the  very 
existence  of  New  England  depended,  whether  she 
liked  it  or  not,  upon  the  mother  country. 

Landing  for  a  few  hours  at  Sabbath  Day  Point, 
twenty-five  miles  down  the  lake,  the  men  re-embarked 
again  at  dark ;  and,  pressing  onward  through  the 
summer  night,  reached  the  foot  of  the  lake  at  ten  on 
the   following  morning.      Montcalm's  outposts    had 

243 


DEATH  OF   HOWE 


[1758 


been  withdrawn  from  here,  and  the  bridge  over  the 
outflowing  river  destroyed.  The  British  landed, 
therefore,  without  opposition  ;  and,  leaving  the  boats 
under  a  strong  force,  prepared  to  march  down  the 
left  bank  of  the  connecting  river.  Headed  by  Lord 
Howe  and  his  light  infantry,  the  whole  force,  the 
English  in  the  centre  and  the  colonials  on  the  flanks, 
moved  forward  through  a  country,  not  only  densely 
timbered,  but  encumbered  with  the  wreckage  of 
fallen  trees.  The  men  forced  their  way  through  the 
dank  tangled  bush  in  such  order  as  they  could,  till  it 
became  evident  that  some  one  had  blundered,  and 
that  the  column  was  hopelessly  astray.  Suddenly 
from  the  front  came  the  sound  of  firing.  It  was 
the  300  men  that  Montcalm  had  sent  out  to  feel 
the  English  advance,  under  his  partisan  captain^ 
Langy.  The  denseness  of  the  forest,  and  the  dark- 
ness of  the  preceding  night,  had  been  too  much 
even  for  Langy's  guides,  and  the  contact  was  one  of 
pure  accident  upon  both  sides.  The  surprise  was 
mutual,  ai  i  was  followed  by  two  hasty  volleys.  It 
was  Lord  Howe's  rangers  and  light  infantry  that 
were  engaged,  and  that  gallant  nobleman  fell  dead  at 
the  first  discharge,  shot  through  the  heart.  We  must 
not  concern  ourselves  with  what  might  have  hap- 
pened but  for  this  luckless  shot  in  a  petty  skirmish, 
which  resulted  in  the  death  or  capture  of  nearly  all 
Langy's  men,  or  whether  Howe's  influence  would  have 
averted  the  catastrophe  that  has  to  be  related.  It  is 
enough  to  say  that  his  fall  was  greeted  with  a  wail 
of  grief  throughout  the  army  and  the  colonies.  Mrs. 
Grant,  so  often  quoted,  tells  us  how  Madame  Schuyler, 
at  whose  hospitable  country  house,  near  Albany, 
Howe,  like  most  of  the  principal  officers,  had  spent 

244 


[1758 

3r  the 
mded, 
boata 
rn  the 
r  Lord 
le,  the 
flanks, 
ensely 
ige   of 
gh  the 
,  till  it 
d,  and 
ddenly 
[t  was 
bo  feel 
Etptain, 
I  dark- 
much 
one  of 
se  was 
ys.     It 
y  that 
lead  at 
e  must 
e  hap- 
irmish, 
irly  all 
d  have 
It  is 
a  wail 
Mrs. 
huyler, 
Llbany, 
I  spent 


1758] 


THE  WRONG  ROAD 


much  time,  received  the  news  :    "  In  the  afternoon  a 
man  was  seen  coming  on  horseback  from  the  north, 
galloping  violently,  without  his  hat.     The  man  gal- 
loped on,  crying   out  that  Lord   Howe   was   killed. 
The  mind  of  our  good  aunt  had  been  so  engrossed  by 
her  anxiety  and  fears  for  the  event  impending,  and 
so  impressed  by  the  merit  and  magnanimity  of  her 
favourite  hero,  that  her  wonted  firmness  sunk  under 
this  stroke,  and  she  broke  out  into  bitter  lamenta- 
tions.    This  had  such  an  effect  on  her  friends  and 
domestics  that  shrieks  and  sobs  of  anguish  echoed 
through    every  part  of   the  house."  y  Wolfe,  while 
before  Louisbourg,  writes  "  if  the  report  of  Howe's 
death  be  true,  there  is  an  end  of  the  expedition,  for 
he  was  the  spirit  of  that  army,  and  the  very  best 
officer  in  the  king's  service."     Even  Abercromby,  in 
his  official  report,  notes  the  universal  outbreak  of 
grief  caused  by  his  death.     In  Westminster  Abbey 
may  be  seen  a  monument,  somewhat  unique  in  its 
origin,  erected  by  the  Government  of  Massachusetts, 
to  the  memory  of  George,  Lord  Viscount  Howe,  etc., 
*•  in  testimony  of  the  sense  they  had  of  his  services 
and   military    virtues,    and  of    the    affection    their 
officers  and  soldiers  bore  to  his  command." 

The  army,  baffled  by  the  nature  of  the  country  on 
the  west  bank,  and  the  want  of  guides,  had  to  bivouac 
in  the  woods  on  this  night,  the  6th,  and  return  in 
the  morning  to  the  landing-place.  A  day  of  infinite 
value  had  been  lost,  but  this  Abercromby  could  not 
know.  He  determined  now  to  take  the  rough  but 
direct  and  beaten  road  on  the  east  bank  of  the  stream 
and  re-build  the  bridge,  which  Montcalm  had  de- 
stroyed, re-crossing  the  river  again  at  the  farther  end 
of  it,  near  Ticonderoga.     The  invaluable  and  active 

245 


i 


,m 


'II' 


hfif 

ill. 


/t  If. 


POSITION   RECONNOITRED       [1758 

Bradstreet  was  therefore  pushed  forward  with  a 
strong  force  on  the  morning  of  the  7th,  and  rapidly 
restored  the  broken  bridge. 

Abercromby,  with  the  main  body,  came  up  in  the 
evening,  and  camped  at  the  saw-mill  for  the  night. 
He  was  now  less  than  two  miles  from  the  intrench- 
ment  at  Ticonderoga  which  Montcalm  was  busy 
finishing.  He  had  left  such  guns  as  he  had,  and 
on  which  hinges  a  vital  question,  at  the  landing-place, 
six  miles  back.  In  the  morning  Abercromby  sent 
what  most  historians,  with  unconscious  but  mis- 
leading grandiloquence,  call  his  "  chief  engineer," 
Mr.  Clerk,  to  report  on  the  French  defence.  On  this 
also  hangs  a  tale.  Mr.  Clerk  seems  to  have  been 
merely  a  subaltern  "  commissioned  sub-engineer  and 
lieutenant,  January  4th,  1758."  ^  He  had  therefore 
been  just  six  months  in  the  service.  The  poor  young 
man,  happily  perhaps  for  himself,  died  the  next  day — 
one  of  the  victims  of  his  own  inexperience  or  rash- 
ness. One  may  well  wonder  at  the  system  which 
left  the  safety  of  an  important  army  to  the  judg- 
ment of  a  half-taught  youth.  It  is  bad  enough  to 
find  Wolfe,  as  a  then  unknown  and  untried  boy  of 
sixteen,  adjutant  to  his  regiment  at  Dettingen.  But 
this  seems  even  worse. 

In  the  thick  forest  there  was  only  one  spot  from 
which  the  French  position  could  be  reconnoitred, 
and  that  was  Mount  Defiance,  just  across  the  mouth 
of  the  little  river,  within  a  mile  of  their  intrench- 
ment.  It  was  from  the  top  of  this  eminence  that  Clerk 
examined  the  formidable  breastwork  of  hewn  logs 
girdled  with  the  chevatujc  de  friae  of  fallen  trees  in 
the  midst  of  the  tangled  clearing,  and  decided  that 

'  See  Kingsford. 
246 


1758] 


A  FATAL  DECISION 


they  could  be  carried  by  assault.  Abercromby's  in- 
formation was  to  the  effect  that  6,000  Frenchmen 
were  here,  and  more  coming,  which  we  know  was 
inaccurate.  He  was  therefore  in  a  hurry  to  attack. 
He  had  left  his  guns  at  the  landing-place ;  having 
brought  them  thus  far  apparently  for  the  purpose  of 
covering  his  landing  in  case  of  the  opposition  he 
expected,  but,  as  we  know,  did  not  encounter.  He 
now  decided,  on  the  strength  of  Clerk's  report,  to 
attack  Montcalm's  intrenchments,  which,  by  the  way, 
contained  some  artillery,  with  the  bayonet.  This  in- 
itial  error  might  have  been  forgiven^  But  that  v/hen 
it  became  apparent,  it  should  have  been  persevered 
in  at  such  frightful  cost,  is  unforgiveable  and  unfor- 
getable.  Most  of  the  officers  of  that  force  seem  to 
have  been  of  the  type  whose  mission  was  to  enjoy 
themselves  in  peace,  and  in  action  to  get  themselves 
killed  cheerfully,  without  criticising  the  tactics  of  their 
commanders.  Moreover,  few  had  seen  the  redoubt. 
There  appear  to  have  betn  a  few  dissentient  voices  on 
this  occasion,  probably  from  those  who  had,  but  they 
were  not  too  insistently  raised.  The  colonists,  many 
of  whom  knew  the  district  well,  may  have  wondered 
at  the  tactics  of  the  British  general ;  but  every  one's 
blood  was  up,  and  the  business  at  Fort  William 
Henry  had  left  a  burning  desire  for  revenge.  "  I 
think  we  were  all  infatuated,"  wrote  a  young  officer, 
describing  the  scene  by  letter  to  Captain  Knox,  in 
Nova  Scotia.  Lord  Howe  was  dead,  and  the  brain  of 
the  army  was  paralysed.  The  pity  of  it  all  lay  in  the 
fact  tha<-  Abercromby  had  left  his  guns  at  the  land- 
ing-place, whence  they  could  have  been  fetched  in  a 
few  hours. 

From  Mount  Defiance  he  could  then  have  pounded 

247 


i 


!!' 


<  . 


THE   BRITISH  FIX  BAYONETS   [1758 

the  huddling  mass  of  Frenchmen  within  the  intrench- 
ment  at  will,  or  knocked  their  defences  about  their 
ears  in  an  hour ;  for  they  were  not  strong  enough  to 
venture  an  attack.  They  had  only  a  week's  pro- 
visions, and  were  nearly  200  miles  from  their  base. 
Even  if  no  artillery  had  been  available,  the  British 
general,  with  his  15,000  men,  could  have  surrounded 
them,  and  starved  them  out  without  firing  a  shot. 
There  were  several  alternatives,  all  practical  certain- 
ties, and  probably  bloodless  ones ;  and  Montcalm  knew 
this  when,  on  the  sole  chance  of  having  a  blunderer 
in  front  of  him,  he  staked  his  all  on  this  forest  ridge 
at  Ticonderoga. 

It  was  high  noon,  and  a  blazing  sun  poured  its 
rays  vertically  down  on  the  front  ranks  of  the 
British  columns  as  they  moved  out  of  the  forest  into 
that  mass  of  tangled  bianches,  through  which  they 
were  to  fight  their  way.  The  Rangers  and  light 
infantry,  who  had  been  pushed  forward  to  drive  in 
Montcalm's  outposts,  fell  back  on  either  flank  as  the 
long  red  lines  of  Grenadiers,  supported  by  the 
Highlanders  of  the  "  Black  Watch,"  over  a  thousand 
strong,  all  with  bayonets  fixed,  stepped  out  of  the 
shadow  of  the  woods  into  the  fierce  sunlight.  Their 
orders  were  simplicity  itself :  to  go  forward,  namely, 
at  the  charg  and  not  fire  a  shot  till  they  were 
within  the  lamparts.  From  the  top  of  Mount 
Defiance,  where  Abercromby's  cannon  should  have 
been  stationed,  400  friendly  Indians,  who  had  just 
arrived  with  Sir  William  Johnson,  to  share  the 
British  triumph,  looked  cynically  down  with  shaking 
heads  and  m.any  deep  guttural  ejaculations  of  con- 
tempt. It  might  be  magnificent,  but  it  was  not  war 
according  to  their  notions  of  the  game,  and  they 

248 


1758] 


THE  ASSAULT 


absolutely  refused  to  throw  their  lives  away  in  any 
such  midsummer  madness. 

It  is  a  lamentable  tale  that  has  now  to  be  told,  and 
one  of  tragic  monotony.  Forcing  their  way  through 
the  tangled  chaos  of  tumbled  trees,  the  front  lines  of 
British  infantry  pressed  on  as  best  they  could,  with 
orders  to  carry  by  steel  alone  those  bristling  barriers 
behind  which  over  3,000  Frenchmen  lay  invisible  and 
secure,  with  levelled  muskets.  As  the  British  ap- 
proached the  abattis  of  prostrate  trees,  laid  outwards 
with  pointed  branches,  a  sheet  of  smoke  and  flame 
burst  from  the  eight  foot  log  breastwork  which  lay 
behind  it,  and  a  fierce  storm  of  bullets,  mixed  with 
grape  shot  swept  through  the  advancing  ranks.  In 
vain  the  survivors  of  that  withering  discharge  tried 
to  force  their  way  through  the  dense  network  of 
opposing  boughs,  and  reach  the  foot  of  the  wooden 
wall  beyond.  Some  acquaintance  with  backwoods 
life  would  help  the  reader  to  more  thoroughly  realize 
the  hideous  nature  of  such  an  obstruction,  when  alive 
with  bullets  fired  by  a  highly  disciplined  and  pro- 
tected enemy  at  a  distance  of  twenty  yards.  The 
hopelessness  of  the  task  must  have  been  obvious  to 
any  observer  ;  but  Abercromby  either  did  not  or  he 
would  not  see  it.  It  is  said  that  he  remained  most 
of  the  time  near  the  saw-mill,  over  a  mile  away, 
though  no  imputation  is  cast  on  his  personal  bravery. 
All  that  remained  for  his  soldiers  was  to  obey  his 
orders,  and  to  dare  and  die,  which  they  did  with 
splendid  and  piteous  gallantry. 

The  order  to  withhold  their  fire,  however,  was 
soon  treated  by  the  troops  with  the  contempt  which, 
under  the  circumstances,  it  deserved ;  but  this  availed 
them  little.     Here  and  there  the  head  of  a  French- 

249 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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I.I 


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33  WIST  MAIN  STRUT 

WnSTM.N.Y.  14SS0 

(716)S73-4S03 


'^ 


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Ui 


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if 


U    n 


i.      ( 


THE  BUTCHERY  OF  TICONDEROGA  [1758 

man  showed  above  the  rampart,  as  he  stood  on  the 
raised  platform  to  fire ;  and  now  and  then  an  English 
bullet  found  its  mark  above  or  between  the  logs.  A 
battery  of  artillery  would  have  knocked  the  rude 
defences  into  splinters  in  an  hour,  but  to  bayonet 
or  musket  ball  they  were  hopelessly  impregnable. 
Regiment  after  regiment  struggled  desperately  on 
against  that  fatal  barrier  ;  but  as  each  rush  of ;  men 
strove  to  tear  their  way  through  the  immovable  frise 
of  branches,  it  was  met  by  a  storm  of  lead,  such  as  no 
troops  could  face  and  live.  As  each  shattered  column 
fell  sullenly  back,  leaving  a  fearful  tribute  of  dead 
and  wounded,  fresh  ones  came  rolling  on  like  the 
waves  of  a  sea,  and  to  break  as  surely  at  the  foot  of 
that  flaming  parapet.  Thus  went  on  the  futile  hero- 
ism and  the  useless  slaughter.  Gay  young  o!?icers, 
whose  routs  and  plays  had  so  lately  been  a  fearful 
joy  to  the  simple  folk  of  Albany,  hung  quiver- 
ing corpses  amid  the  fast  withering  leaves  of  the 
interlacing  trees.  Here  and  there  a  Highlander, 
mad  with  fury  and  contemptuous  of  life,  had  actually 
scaled  the  log  wall  and  leaped  down  to  certain  death 
among  the  enemy.  Many  are  the  tales  that  have 
come  down  to  us  of  deeds  of  personal  heroism  per- 
formed upon  that  bloody  day ;  but  where  all  were 
heroes  it  matters  less  that  there  is  no  space  for  them. 
Now  and  again  there  was  a  lull,  born  of  sheer  ex- 
haustion, the  smoke  lifted  from  the  deadly  clearing, 
and  men  may  well  have  looked  for  some  word  from 
their  sphinx-like  general ;  but  Abercromby  gave  no 
sign,  except,  with  imperturbable  fatuity,  to  persist  in 
his  mad  course.  Fresh  troops  were  ordered  forward, 
and  with  them  returned  to  the  charge  the  survivors 
of  the  last  attacks.     There  was  no  sign  of  hesitation 

250 


i; 


1758]        A  DESPAIRING  EFFORT 


1 


throughout  the  whole  of  those  terrible  four  hours, 
and  never  was  greater  gallantry  shown  in  an  effort 
so  lamentably  superfluous. 

"  It  was  in  vain  at  last,"  says  Warburton,  "  as  it 
was  at  first ;  and  upon  that  rude  barrier,  which,  the 
simplest  manoeuvres  would  have  avoided,  or  an  hour 
of  well  plied  artillery  swept  away,  the  flower  of 
British  chivalry  was  crushed  and  broken." 

"  The  scene  was  frightful,"  writes  Parkman ; 
"  masses  of  infuriated  men,  who  could  not  go  forward 
and  would  not  go  back,  straining  for  an  enemy  they 
could  not  reach,  and  firing  at  an  enemy  they  could 
not  see." 

It  was  within  a  day  of  being  the  third  anniversary 
of  Braddock's  defeat,  and,  as  on  that  fatal  field,  the 
full  heat  of  the  hottest  period  of  the  American  sum- 
mer simmered  in  the  smoke-charged  clearing,  which 
even  the  warm  lake  breezes  could  not  reach.  It  was 
five  o'clock,  and  nearly  four  hours  of  this  insensate 
work  had  not  daunted  the  spirit  of  these  gallant 
men.  For  it  was  at  this  moment  that  the  most 
furious  onslaught  of  the  whole  day  was  made  upon 
the  French  right.  Then,  and  then  only  for  a  few 
brief  minutes,  was  Montcalm's  position  in  danger,  and 
he  had  to  hurry  in  person  with  a  strong  support  to 
where  a  group  of  Highlanders,  with  superb  indiffer- 
ence to  death,  were  making  their  way  up  and  over 
the  parapet.  But  the  gallant  effort  was  fruitless. 
It  was  the  last  of  the  succession  of  furious  attacks 
to  which  MontcLiin  does  full  justice,  marvelling  in 
his  heart  at  the  madness  which  inspired  them,  and 
welling  over  with  gratitude  at  his  good  fortune. 
One  or  two  more  half-hearted  and  despairing  at- 
tempts were  made  upon  the  deadly  lines,  when  the 

251 


THE  DEATH  ROLL 


[1768 


General,  recognising  at  six  o'clock  what  he  should 
have  seen  at  one,  gave  the  order  to  retire.  Then 
amid  some  desultory  firing  of  colonials  and  Bankers, 
from  the  bordering  forest,  the  shattered  British  regi- 
ments fell  back  to  the  saw-mill,  whither  the  wounded 
had  been  previously  conveyed  in  batches,  and  those  yet 
to  be  gathered  from  the  battlefield  were  subsequently 
taken.  The  French  had  done  enough.  They  were 
as  exhausted  with  the  great  strain  of  their  victory, 
as  they  were  exalted,  and  made  no  attempt  to  molest 
the  retreat,  and  the  British  army  spent  that  night  in 
peace  at  the  saw-mills.  Burning  both  mill  and  bridge, 
they  then  marched  the  six  miles  to  the  landing- 
place,  and  there  embarked,  with  sad  hearts  and 
boat-loads  of  wounded,  on  the  very  spot  where,  two 
days  before,  they  had  landed  in  all  the  pride  and 
confidence  of  anticipated  victory.  One  hears  some- 
times of  a  certain  amount  of  panic  accompanying 
this  retreat,  but  there  seems  no  direct  evidence  to 
this  effect,  and  it  is  entirely  against  reason,  though 
Abercromby  did  believe  there  to  be  6,000  Frenchmen 
inside  the  barricade,  and  that  reinforcements  were 
close  at  hand.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  French  fully 
expected  another  attack  ;  but  Abercromby,  though  he 
had  still  over  13,000  men  behind  him,  abandoned  all 
thought  of  further  action,  and  put  his  largo  force  again 
into  camp  at  his  base  on  the  head  of  Lake  George. 
It  now  remained  but  to  count  the  cost,  and  this 
was  frightful.  Very  nearly  2,000  men  had  fallen 
in  a  short  quarter  of  a  summer  day,  and  the  greater 
part  of  these  were  of  the  6,000  regulars,  who  had 
borne  the  chief  part  of  the  affray.  300  provincials 
only  figure  in  the  returns ;  but  no  half -disciplined 
militia,  without  bayonets,  however  brave,  could  have 

252 


II 


// 


1758]    AN  INCIDENT  OF  THE  FIGHT 

been  launched  upon  a  task  so  obviously  hopeless. 
For  sheer  intrepidity,  however,  the  "  Black  Watch  " 
must  bear  off  the  palm  on  a  day  as  memorable  for 
individual  heroism  as  for  concrete  failure.  This 
fine  regiment,  "every  one  of  whose  soldiers,"  says 
a  contemporary  writer,  who  knew  them  intimately, 
"  considered  himself  as  raised  somewhat  above  the 
rank  of  a  common  man,"  went  into  action  over  1,000 
strong,  and  came  out  499.  The  French  loss  was 
under  400,  though  de  Bourlamaque  was  seriously, 
and  de  Bougainville  slightly  wounded. 

There  were  some  other  incidents  in  the  battle,  but 
they  pale  into  insignificance  compared  with  the  sus- 
tained frontal  attack.  The  strips  of  densely  wooded 
swamp  on  either  side  of  the  intrenchment  were 
guarded  by  Canadians  and  Indians,  and  Abercromby's 
provincials  made  several  futile  attempts  to  dislodge 
them.  Bradstreet,  too,  had  brought  some  batteaux 
over  land  from  Lake  George,  and  these  were  filled 
with  riflemen  and  floated  on  the  river,  in  the  flank  of 
the  French  position ;  but  cannon  were  brought  to  bear 
on  the  crowded  boats,  to  their  complete  discomfiture, 
two  or  three  of  them  being  actually  sunk.  In  the  heat 
of  the  frontal  attack  there  occurred  one  of  those  mis- 
understandings, or  worse,  that  is  strangely  suggestive 
of  operations  proceeding  at  this  very  moment  in 
another  continent.  A  captain  of  the  Royal  Roussillon 
regiment  tied  a  flag  to  the  end  of  a  musket,  and 
waved  it  towards  a  British  column  in  the  act  of 
attacking.  The  latter  took  it  as  a  sign  of  surrender, 
and,  crossing  their  muskets  on  their  breasts,  with  their 
muzzles  in  the  air,  stepped  innocently  forward  towards 
the  abattis.  The  French  troops  on  their  part,  and,  of 
a  truth,  with  unaccountable  simplicity,  if  it  be  true, 

253 


CAMPBELL  OP  INVERAWE      [1758 


'|}| 
i\''' 


regarded  the  action  of  the  British  as  denoting  sur- 
render, and  they  ceased  firing,  preparatory  to  receiving 
them  within  the  breastwork.  Whether  the  waving 
of  the  flag  was  an  instance  of  that  "slimness"  for 
which  the  South  African  Boer  is  noted,  or  was  merely 
a  meaningless  and  sudden  impulse  on  the  part  of  the 
French  captain,  is  uncertain.  But  another  captain 
(Pouchot),  who  tells  the  tale,  describes  how  he  arrived 
on  the  scene  at  this  moment,  and  saw  the  English  line 
advancing  and  the  French  standing  quietly  awaiting 
them  with  grounded  arms.  Knowing  nothing  of  what 
had  gone  before,  he  shouted  to  the  French  soldiers 
to  fire,  or  the  English  would  assuredly  capture  them. 
A  volley  was  then  delivered,  which,  according  to 
the  same  officer,  killed  or  wounded  about  200  of 
the  unsuspecting  British.  There  was  groat  indigna- 
tion at  the  time  among  the  latter,  but  it  seems  pro- 
bable that  no  bad  faith  was  intended.  A  famous 
legend,  too,  surrounds  the  memory  of  one  of  the 
victim*;  of  this  bloody  field,  and  must  by  no  means 
be  overlooked. 

It  so  happened  that  a  certain  Duncan  Campbell,  of 
Inverawe  Castle,  was  at  this  time  a  major  of  the 
**  Black  Watch."  Some  years  previously,  and  before 
the  regiment  was  raised,  so  runs  the  story,  he  chanced 
to  be  sitting  alone  at  midnight  in  the  hall  of  his  old 
castle,  when  suddenly  there  came  a  knocking  at  the 
gate.  Going  out  himself  he  found  a  blood-stained 
Highlander,  worn  and  torn  with  travel,  who  confessed 
to  having  killed  a  man  in  a  fray,  and  to  being  closely 
pursued  by  officers  of  the  law,  and  entreated  the  laird 
to  give  him  shelter  and  protection.  The  latter  con- 
sented, but  the  fugitive  was  not  satisfied  till  Campbell 
had  sworn  secrecy  on  his  dirk,  which  he  somewhat 

254 


1758' 


A  GHOSTLY  VISITANT 


rashly  did.  He  had  scarcely  hidden  him  away,  when 
there  was  a  fresh  hammering  at  the  castle  gate,  which 
proved  to  he  the  avengers  of  the  law  on  the  fugitive's 
track.  These  informed  Campbell  that  his  cousin  Don- 
ald had  just  been  murdered,  and  that  the  murderer 
was  somewhere  in  the  neighbourhood.  The  laird 
was  greatly  perturbed,  but,  remembering  his  oath, 
professed  to  know  nothing  of  the  matter.  That  night, 
as  may  well  be  supposed,  sleep  did  not  come  readily 
to  his  eyes,  and  before  long  was  effectually  banished 
by  the  dread  presence  of  the  murdered  man,  who 
suddenly  appeared  at  his  bedside,  and  in  a  sepulchral 
voice  addressed  him  thus  :  "  Inverawe  !  Inverawe  ! 
blood  has  been  shed ;    shield  not  the  murderer." 

Campbell  was  so  horrified,  that  the  next  day, 
though  he  would  not  break  his  oath,  he  refused  any 
longer  to  keep  the  guilty  fugitive  beneath  his  roof, 
but  took  him  out  to  the  hills,  and  hid  him  in  a  cave. 
This,  however,  would  not  suffice  to  lay  the  ghost  of 
his  murdered  cousin,  which  appeared  to  him  again 
the  next .  night,  repeating  the  same  significant  in- 
junction. Campbell,  distraught  with  superstitious 
fears,  hastened  at  dawn  of  day  to  the  mountains ; 
but  the  cave  where  he  had  hidden  his  unbidden  guest 
was  empty — the  murderer  had  flown. 

Once  more,  on  the  following  night,  the  ghastly 
vision  stood  by  Campbell's  bedside.  Its  attitude 
was  not  so  menacing,  but  its  words  were  perhaps 
yet  more  significant :  "  Farewell,  Inverawe ;  fare- 
well, till  we  meet  at  Ticonderoga." 

Now  at  that  early  time,  neither  Campbell  nor 
perhaps  any  other  British  officer,  had  so  much  as 
heard  the  name  of  the  obscui  e  backwoods  post ;  so 
he  marvelled  greatly  what  this  strange  arrangement 

255 


DEATH  OF  CAMPBELL 


[1758 


t 


u 


of  letters  might  mean,  and  for  this  very  reason  it 
remained  indelibly  imprinted  on  his  mind. 

Two  or  three  years  afterwards  the  42nd  was  raised, 
and  in  due  course  ordered  to  America,  and,  as  we 
have  seen,  became  part  of  the  force  operating  against 
Ticonderoga,  which  till  then  had  been  usually  known 
by   its   French   name   of   Carillon.      When   Duncan 
Campbell  first  heard  the  strange  word  that  had  lain 
half  dormant  buc  unforgotten  in  his  mind  for  years, 
and  that  he  was  to  attack  the  place  which  it  signified^ 
he  gave  himself  up  for  lost ;  and  though  a  valiant 
soldier,  succumbed  to  the  mental  depression  which 
a  strong  presentiment  is  apt  to  produce  on  super- 
stitious natures,  however  brave.     His  brother  officers 
tried  by  various  ruses  to  make  him  think  it  was  not 
actually   Ticonderoga   they   were    about   to   attack. 
But  on  the  morning  of  the  8th — the  fatal  day — he 
remarked  gloomily  to  those  about  him  that  it  was 
idle  attempting  to  deceive  him,  for  that  very  night  he 
had  again  seen  the  apparition,  which  on  this  occasion 
had  uttered  but  three  words  :  "  This  is  Ticonderoga." 
"And  this  day,"  said  the  major,  "  I  shall  fall."    Fall 
he  did,  and  was  carried  wounded  to  Fort  Edward,  on 
the  Hudson,  where  he  shortly  afterwards  died.     His 
grave  may  yet  be  seen,  and  on  the  stone  above  it  may 
be  read :  "  Here  lyes  the  body  of  Duncan  Campbell, 
of  Inverawe,  Esq.,  Major  to  the  old  Highland  Regi- 
ment, aged  55  years,  who  died  the  17th  July,  1758,  of 
the  wounds  he  received  in  the  attack  of  the  Retrench- 
ment of  Ticonderoga   or  Carillon  on  the  8th  July> 
1758." 

We  must  pass  over  the  justifiable  exultation  of 
the  3,000  and  odd  brave  Frenchmen  who  stood  that 
day  so  staimchly  behind  their  log  breastworks,  the 

256 


of 
;hat 
the 


1758]    A  HALF-FORGOTTEN  TRAGEDY 

letters  that  were  written,  the  paans  that  were  sung, 
the  triumph  that  resounded  throughout  France  and 
Canada,  to  say  nothing  of  the  inevitable  exaggera- 
tions that  went  out  concerning  an  achievement  that 
indeed  required  none.  Montcalm,  when  he  heard  of 
Louisbourg,  expressed  a  wish  that  his  Ticonderoga 
heroes  had  been  there.  But  in  so  doing  his  pen  ran 
away  with  him.  He  did  an  injustice  to  his  equally 
brave  troops  in  Cape  Breton,  and  forgot  for  the 
moment  that  a  single  half -battery  of  Amherst's  guns 
would  have  blown  his  wooden  ramparts  into  frag- 
ments, and  that  he  owed  his  triumph,  and  even  his 
own  safety,  to  a  blunder,  that  he  must  have  well 
known  was  outside  every  calculation  of  war. 

Such  was  Ticonderoga,  the  least  remembered,  though 
one   of    the    bloodiest,   most    desperate,   and    most 
dramatic  battles  of  our  history,  at  once  a  glory  and 
a  shame.     The  schoolboy  has  never  heard  of  it ;  the 
journalist,  who  in  these  stirring  times  is  called  upon 
to  summarise  the  triumphs  and  defeats  of  byegone 
days,  seems  often  in  like  plight.    Thackeray's  Virgin- 
ians is  probably  responsible  for  much  of  the  recol- 
lection that  survives  of   the  Monongahela,   though 
Braddock  had  not  nearly  as  many  men  in  action  as 
fell  at  Ticonderoga.     Cooper  was  not  so  fortunate  in 
fastening  upon  the  public  mind  that  Homeric  contest 
on  Lake  Champlain;  which  was,  perhaps,  the  most 
humiliating  reverse  we  ever  suffered  at  the  hands  of 
the  French,  and  a  fight  that,  save  for  Burgoyne's  sur- 
render, far  overshadows  any  of  the  numerous  conflicts 
fought  in  that  historic   region.      For   yet   another 
generation  was  to  wake  the  echoes  of  these  noble 
solitudes  with   a   strife   as   bitter,  and  on  an  issue 
only  less  momentous  than  this  one.     It  is  a  popular 

257  s 


.#• 


%• 


/ 


AN  HISTORIC  LAKE 


f'i 


impression  that  North  America  is  barren  of  associa- 
tions, that  its  natural  beauties  lack  the  atmosphere 
of  history,  legend,  and  tradition.   It  is  not  so  much  the 
lack  of  these,  as  the  lack  of  equipment  to  appreciate 
them,  that  is  at  fault.     He  would  be  a  callous  wight 
indeed,  who,  thus  equipped,  could   stand  upon  the 
shores  of  Lake  George,  and  feel  no  thrill  but  what  its 
physical  features  awakened.     If  eighteenth  century 
life  be  accounted  sufficiently  remote  to  appeal  to  the 
historic  fancy, — ^which  it  surely  is, — think  with  what 
infinite  picturesqueness,  with  what  fulness  of  romance, 
its  quaint  figures,  its  stirring  pageants  grouped  them- 
selves upon  a  canvas,  in  itself   so  exquisitely  fair. 
Not  once    or  twice,  as  a  fleeting  vision,   but  year 
after  year  passed  backwards  and  forwards  the  mot- 
ley martial  throng :  frilled  and  powdered  dandies  of 
the  second  George's  time,  in  scarlet,  and   lace,  and 
gold;  no  less  punctilious  exquisites  from  the  outer 
circles,   at    least,   of   Louis    XV/s    brilliant   Court, 
long-skirted,  gaitered,  pig-tailed  soldiers  in  red  or 
white,  from  Devon  and  Yorkshire  villages,  from  the 
orchards  of  Normandy,  and  from  the  slopes  of  the 
Pyrenees.     Fair-haired  Germans  and  hardy  Switzers 
were   here;  keen  soldiers  of  fortune   some,  others 
simple  hirelings  ;  savages,  too,  of  tribes  innumerable, 
in  bark  canoes,  all  painted  and  be-feathered  with  the 
inmioderate  profusion  of  those  primitive  days ;  wild, 
bearded,  lion-hearted  Rangers,   in  fringed  hunting 
shirts  and  coon-skin  caps,  and  masses  of  hardy,  God- 
fearing rustics  in  blue  or  homespun,  from  Connecticut 
and  Massachusetts  farms. 

The  very  contrasts,  in  a  country  that  has  lived 
at  double  speed,  gives  the  past  a  greater  aloof- 
ness and  a  stronger  fascination;  and  never  surely 

258 


A  MODEBX  CONTRAST 


Lssocia- 

>sphere 

uchthe 

)reciate 

,  wigbt 

,on  the 

^rhat  its 

century 

1,1  to  the 

th  what 

omance, 

jd  them- 

ely  fair. 

►ut  year 

the  mot- 

sindies  ot 

Bce,  and 

,he  outer 

it  Court, 
red  or 

Irom  the 
IS  of  the 
Switzers 

|e,  others 
Linerahle, 
with  the 
lys;  wild, 
hunting 
|rdy,  God- 
innecticut 

las  lived 
ter  aloof- 
\er  surely 


was  war  more   picturesque   than   here.     It  is    not 
much  more    than   a    century   since    the    last   can- 
non  shot  was    fired,   and   the   last   actors   in    the 
final  scene,  that  of  the  revolutionary  war,  passed 
from    the    stage.       Yet    what    an    age,    however, 
in     this    new    world,     it    seems,    and     how    vast 
the  change  !     These  ancient  hattle-fields  are  now 
the  playground  of  an  abounding  population,  from 
teeming  cities   that  were  then  but  trifiing  villages 
or  frontier  forts.     The  beauty  of  lake  and  mountain 
and  forest  is  still  here.      The  grey  ruins  of  Ticon- 
deroga  may  yet  be  seen,  mouldering  amid  the  throb 
of  modern  life.    But  villages  and  hamlets  and  huge 
hotels,   gay  with    holiday-makers,   cluster    on    the 
shores.     Steamers  and  pleasure-boats  ply  joyously 
along  the  bays  and  through  island  channels,  where 
of  old  scalp-hunting  Indians  and  Bangers  crouched 
for  their  prey  amid  the  rocks  and  reeds.     The  engine 
screams  along  the  banks,  now  smooth  by  comparison, 
and  long  shorn  of  the  tangled  wilderness,  where  red- 
coats blundered  into  ambushes,  and  even  the  ranger 
was  sometimes  ut  fault.      But  beneath  the  wheels 
of  panting  trains,  or  the  hurrying  feet  of  careless 
tourists,  and  s<)fmetimes,  perhaps,  even  yet,  amid  the 
murmur  of  pine  and  hemlock  woods,  there   sleep 
unnumbered  and  forgotten  dead — French  and  Eng- 
lish, colonist  and  Indian,  Dutch  and  German,  who  fell 
here  when  the  fate  of  America  was  yet  hanging  in 
the  balance,  and  its  greater  portion  still  lay  wrapped 
in   the    silence   of   unbroken   forest   or   untrodden 
prairie.    2^  x^C 


259 


INDIGNATION  AGAINST  ABEBCBOMBY 


CHAPTER  IX 


iff  f! 


PITT  took  the  disaster  of  July  the  8th  sorely  to 
heart.  His  friends  endeavoured  to  console  him 
by  pointing  out  the  valour  and  the  spirit  which  had 
animated  the  soldiers,  even  to  the  last  moment  of 
their  hopeless  attempt ;  but  the  failure,  summed  up 
in  facts  and  figures,  was  outside  consolation.  Happily 
the  news  of  Louisbourg  followed  so  quickly  on  that  of 
Ticonderoga,  that  both  Pitt  and  the  British  people, 
save  those  who  mourned  their  dead,  were  soon  buoyed 
up  again  on  the  high  tide  of  hope.  Loud  was  the  out- 
cry in  America  against  the  hapless  Abercromby,  as  he 
sat  down  again,  at  the  head  of  Lake  George,  with 
his  13,000  men,  raised,  fed,  and  transported  at  such 
pains  and  cost.  He  has  since  had  his  defenders  for 
thus  retiring,  after  so  severe  a  rebuff,  on  his  base  of 
supplies ;  but  to  all  the  critics  in  his  own  army,  whose 
views  survive,  it  seemed  sheer  poltroonery.  The 
^,000  provincial  troops  who  had  been  conveyed  to 
the  scene  of  action  and  brought  back  again  almost 
intact,  sounded  the  loudest  note  of  indignation,  save, 
perhaps,  that  of  the  provincial  taxpayers.  The 
Oeneral,  however,  does  not  seem  to  have  suffered 
from  an  over  sensitive  temperament,  and  he  quietly 
set  about  intrenching  his  front,  upon  the  site  of 
Fort  William  Henry;  and  without  any  apparent 
sense  of  huHliliatio^,  exchanged  his  former  rdle  of 

260 


1758]  INACTION  ON  LAKE  GEORGE 


an  irresistible  invader  of  Canada  to  that  of  the  de- 
fender of  a  threatened  frontier.  His  army,  no  doubt, 
thanks  only  to  himself,  was  greatly  shaken  in  morale, 
but  it  was  still  enormously  superior  to  that  of 
Montcalm,  who  could  not  believe  that  he  would  be 
left  unmolested.  As  time  passed  on,  however,  and  it 
became  evident  to  the  French  that  no  attack  on  Que- 
bec by  Amherst  was  likely,  men  were  crowded  down 
to  Ticonderoga,  and  before  the  commander-in-chief 
was  free  to  support  Abercromby,  Montcalm  had  troops 
enough  and  intrenchments  enough  to  make  his  eviction 
a  matter  of  such  serious  difficulty  that  all  thoughts 
of  it  were  given  up.  The  doings  of  Abercromby  and 
his  disheartened  men  this  autumn  need  not  detain  us. 
They  occupied  the  old  lines  of  defence  and  communi- 
tation  from  Lake  George  across  the  fourteen  mile 
carrying-place  to  Fort  Edward,  and  thence  down  the 
scattered  forts  upon  the  banks  of  the  Hudson.  A 
single  sloop,  flying  the  British  flag,  and  carrying  six 
of  the  guns  which  had  made  that  incompleted  pil- 
grimage to  Ticonderoga,  cruised  about  Lake  George 
undisputed  mistress  of  that  mimic  sea. 

The  passing  of  provision  convoys  from  port  to  port, 
for  the  use  of  Abercromby's  inactive  army,  gave  Mont- 
calm's Rangers,  slipping  up  Wood  Creek  from  Lake 
Champlain  into  the  British  country,  fine  scope  for 
their  energies,  while  Rogers  and  Putnam,  with  their 
equally  hardy  and  daring  followers,  were  as  active  as 
their  rivals,  both  in  defence  and  attack.  But  the  mili- 
tary machine  as  a  whole  remained  immovable  upon 
the  lakes.  Amherst's  men,  to  the  number  of  3,000, 
landed  at  Boston  from  Louisbourg  in  September,  and 
made  a  long  march  across  the  grain  of  a  rough  coun- 
try to  Fort  Edward.    It  was  too  late,  however,  even 

261 


BBADSTBEET 


[1758 


i 


in  Amherst's  opinion,  seeing  the  great  strength  of  the 
French,  to  make  another  attempt  on  Ticonderoga ; 
and  we  may  now  'oave  the  camps  on  the  New  York 
frontier  to  an  autumn  season  of  discontent.  Gather- 
ing snowstorms  and  freezing  waters  in  due  course 
put  an  end  to  their  unprofitable  labours,  and  sent 
them  into  winter  quarters  to  glean  what  consolation 
they  might  from  the  better  fortune  of  their  comrades 
at  Louisbourg,  and  in  two  other  quarters  which  must 
now  be  dealt  with. 

Before  consigning  poor  Abercromby  to  the  oblivion 
which  ensued  upon  his  recall — the  best  fate,  indeed, 
he  could  have  hoped  for — it  should  be  said  to  his 
credit  that  he  consented  to  a  scheme,  and  supplied 
the  troops  for  it,  which  was  entirely  successful,  and 
materially  helped  the  triumph  at  Louisbourg  to  coun- 
terbalance the  disaster  on  Lake  George.  Bradstreet, 
whose  acquaintance  we  have  already  made,  was  the 
hero  of  the  enterprise.  He  was  a  New  Englander, 
had  served  as  a  captain  in  the  former  war,  and  as 
lieutenant-colonel  of  provincials  had  done  yeoman's 
service  in  this  one.  In  the  management  of  batteaux, 
whaleboats,  and  canoes,  and  of  the  men  who  manned 
them — a  vital  department  of  these  campaigns — he 
had  no  rival.  He  was,  moreover,  a  brave  and  enter- 
prising soldier  equally  at  home  in  the  forest,  in  the 
open  plain,  or  on  the  surging  rapid.  He  was  some- 
what contemptuous  of  European  generals  and  their 
deliberate  tactics,  but  was  on  good  terms  with  all  the 
British  commanders,  and  greatly  valued  by  them,  as 
indeed  he  may  well  have  been,  for  he  was  of  infinite 
service  to  the  British  cause.  He  received  a  royal 
commission,  and  died  eventually  a  Major-General  in 
the  English  army.     If  the  gratitude  of  a  country  is 

262 


I  ( 


/ 1 


1758J  EXPEDITION  AGAINST  FBONTENAO 

to  be  estimated  by  its  biographical  literature,  it  has 
forgotten  Brndstreet,  as  it  has  forgotten  many 
another  man,  who  laid  his  country  and  his  race  un- 
der a  lasting  debt  in  the  wild  woods  of  eighteenth 
century  America. 

Bradstreet  had  for  a  long  time  kept  his  eye  on 
Frontenac,  that  important  half-way  station  between 
Montreal  and  the  remoter  western  forts.  It  was  a 
depdt  of  supply,  too,  for  these,  as  well  as  for  the  new 
garrisons  in  the  Ohio  valley.  He  had  urged  Loudon 
in  the  preceding  autumn,  when  his  operations  had  all 
failed,  to  let  him  make  a  dash  upon  this  vital  French 
position,  but  Loudon  was  nothing  if  not  cautious, 
and  had  refused.  Poor  Abercromby,  however, 
grasping  at  anything  which  promised  some  mitiga- 
tion of  his  affairs,  listened  readily  to  the  renewed 
applications  of  Bradstreet,  after  the  failure  at  Ticon- 
deroga,  and  gave  him  3,000  men,  all  of  them  from  the 
provincial  militia  except  200  regulars,  and  300 
batteau  men,  and  70  Indians.  Bradstreet  had  got 
word  that  Frontenac  was  denuded  of  its  usually 
strong  garrison,  which  had  been  withdrawn  by  Vau- 
dreuil  to  strengthen  the  only  part  of  Canada  now 
supposed  to  be  in  danger,  namely,  that  threatened  by 
Abercromby's  army. 

Bradstreet's  only  line  of  attack  was  of  course  up 
the  old  western  route,  by  the  Mohawk  valley,  to  the 
site  of  the  vanished  Oswego,  on  Lake  Ontario.  Up 
this  long  toilsome  track  by  lake,  rapid  and  portage, 
the  New  England  colonel  and  his  batteau  men 
pressed  their  way  with  ready  and  familiar  steps,  the 
colonial  soldiers  marching  none  the  less  cheerfully, 
though  suffering  much  from  sickness,  that  they  were 
under  one  of  their  own  leaders.    They  passed  General 

263 


■  4 


# 


m 


iii 


if  w 


I     t 


'i       { 


CAPTURE  OF  FRONTENAC       [1758 

Stanwix,  who  was  busy  erecting  the  great  fort  at  the 
Oneida  watershed  that  was  to  bear  his  name,  and  on 
the  22nd  of  August  stood  beside  the  ruins  of  Oswego, 
looking  out  over  the  blue  waves  of  Lake  Ontario,  to 
the  shoreless  horizon,  behind  which  lay  the  still 
virgin  forests  of  Western  Canada.  Great  numbers  of 
Bradstreet's  soldiers  had  dropped  behind  from  sick- 
ness, but  he  had  written  Abercromby  that  if  he  had 
only  a  thousand  left  he  would  carry  out  his  venture. 
He  had  much  more  than  a  thousand,  though,  as  it 
turned  out,  he  hardly  needed  even  that  much. 
Launching  his  batteaux  and  whaleboats  upon  the  lake» 
he  had,  in  four  days,  landed  his  men  and  guns  within 
sight  of  Fort  Frontenac,  and  on  the  f  oUowing  morning 
had  a  battery  mounted  within  point  blank  range  of 
the  enemy's  walls,  and  the  garrison  at  his  mercy. 
The  great  French  station,  key  of  the  west,  master  of 
Lake  Ontario,  and  feeder  of  the  Ohio  forts  that  had 
been  for  so  long  decimating  the  English  frontier,  had 
indeed  been  caught  napping.  Resistance  was  hopeless, 
as  a  few  discharges  of  artillery  soon  made  evident. 
There  were  only  a  hundred  men  in  the  fort,  with 
their  women  and  children,  and  they  promptly  sur- 
rendered ;  but  it  was  crammed  with  stores.  The 
prisoners  were  allowed  to  go  to  Montreal  on  parole, 
on  the  understanding  that  their  equivalent  in  British 
captives  should  be  forwarded  to  Albany.  The 
Commandant  was  one  Payan  de  Noyan,  an  aged 
gentleman  of  family  and  considerable  culture,  but  of 
greatly  impaired  means,  the  recuperation  of  which 
was  indeed  the  immediate  cause  of  his  exile  in  the 
backwoods ;  for  it  will  be  remembered  that  a  Cana- 
dian fort  was  given  to  favourites,  or  deser^dng 
officers,  for  this  dubious  purpose. 

264 


I! 


// 


1758] 


DE  NOTAN 


This  gallant  old  versifier  and  scientist,  for  he  was 
both,  heard  of  Bradstreet's  intentions,  at  an  early 
date,  from  friendly  Indians,  and  resented  being  thus 
caught  like  a  rat  in  a  trap.  Yaudreuil,  in  answer  to 
his  earnest  solicitation  for  troops,  sent  him  one  man 
as  an  adviser,  and  he  with  but  one  arm  I  Upon  which 
de  Noyan,  for  there  was  yet  plenty  of  time,  begged 
to  be  relieved  of  his  honours.  Vaudreuil  put  him  off, 
insinuating,  at  the  same  time,  that  his  nerve  must  be 
failing.  After  the  inevitable  surrender,  Vaudreuil 
bade  him  be  of  good  cheer,  and  neither  to  worry  him- 
self, nor  take  the  trouble  to  draw  up  formal  reports, 
for  that  he  would  explain  the  whole  matter  to  the 
court  of  France.  Vaudreuil,  who  was,  in  fact,  wholly 
responsible  for  the  fall  of  Frontenac,  did  explain 
matters,  but  after  his  own  characteristic  fashion, 
giving  the  king  to  understand  that  age  had  impaired 
de  Noyan's  energies ;  in  short,  that  he  had  played 
the  coward.  The  poor  old  gentleman,  who,  if  he  did 
plunder  his  king,  could  not  rest  under  the  imputation, 
certainly  an  unjust  one,  of  being  backward  in  fight- 
ing for  him,  went  to  France  and  craved  for  a  hearing, 
but  to  no  purpose.  Perhaps  it  was  a  just  judgment 
on  his  peculations,  though  Vaudreuil  seems  hardly 
a  fitting  instrument  for  Providential  chastisement. 
Thus  was  Canada  governed  in  her  hour  of  need,  and 
indeed  for  a  very  long  time  previous  to  it. 

The  booty  taken  and  destroyed  at  Frontenac  was 
very  great,  and  the  loss  to  the  French,  they  them- 
selves declared,  was  worse  than  that  of  a  battle. 
There  were  nine  vessels,  carrying  over  a  hundred 
guns,  most  of  which  were  burned,  together  with  the 
fort  itself,  and  everything  inside  it  that  could  not 
be   moved.     Sixty  pieces  of  artillery  were  carried 

265 


'<!} 


t-m  t.  »Ja>-H><r 


!;»■»..  nv-^. 


~,i-£- 


•ia  !.■ 


ixx; 


r-r  r  JT-.A  >.,— -y  — ',-• 


r^ 


VALUABLE  BOOTY 


[1758 


li 


away,  besides  an  immense  amount  of  valuable  furs, 
stores,  and  provisions,  valued  at  nearly  a  million 
livres.  Bradstreet,  to  crown  the  honour  of  his 
achievement,  refused  any  share  in  the  booty,  his 
portion  being  divided  among  his  troops. 

It  should  be  remembered  that  the  base,  or  the 
Canadian  side,  of  the  triangle,  on  which  the  whole 
conduct  of  this  war  necessarily  ran,  was  a  line  along 
which  movement  was,  for  the  most  part,  easy, 
namely,  the  St.  Lawrence  river.  The  two  routes  of 
attack,  diverging  from  Albany,  on  the  other  hand, 
were,  as  we  know,  full  of  obstacles.  The  French 
could  move  comparatively  swiftly  and  without  fear 
of  molestation  along  their  line  of  defence.  Hence 
the  prestige  earned  by  Bradstreet  in  traversing  the 
Mohawk  route  with  such  destructive  expedition  and 
taking  them  by  surprise.  Three  thousand  French- 
men had  started  from  Montreal  at  the  last  moment, 
but  had  only  reached  the  Lachine  rapids  when  they 
heard  that  Frontenac,  like  its  old  rival  Oswego,  was 
no  more.  Later  on  there  was  some  slight  attempt 
made  to  restore  it,  but  misfortunes  soon  crowded 
thick  on  the  French,  and  the  spot  was  ultimately 
abandoned  to  the  wilderness,  which  for  a  generation 
held  its  tangled  fields  and  blackened  ruins  in  its  grip. 
Thirty  years  later  a  band  of  refugee  loyalists,  ex- 
pelled by  force,  or  urged  by  patriotic  fervour,  from  the 
new  republic  of  the  United  States,  gathered  at  the  old 
Fort  of  Frontenac,  drew  lots  for  the  newly  surveyed 
lands  around  it,  and  founded  the  province  of  Upper 
Canada,  better  known  to-day  as  Ontario.  The  im- 
portant lakeside  town  of  Kingston  now  covers  the 
site  both  of  the  old  French  warehouses  and  batteries, 
and  the  fresh  wheat  and  turnip  fields  of  the  United 

266 


w- 


[1758 

>le  furs, 
million 

of    His 
loty,  Ws 

,  or  the 
le  whole 
ne  along 
rt,   easy, 
•outes  of 
ler  hand, 
a  French 
hout  fear 
,.     Hence 
rsing  the 
lition  and 
1  French- 
;  moment, 
;<rhen  they 
wego,  was 
it  attempt 
1  crowded 
ultimately 
generation 
in  its  grip, 
y^alists,  ex- 
r,  from  the 
i  at  the  old 
y  surveyed 
B  of  Upper 
,.    The  im- 
covers  the 
d  batteries, 
the  United 


1758]      RECALL  OF  ABEBGBOMBY 

Empire  loyalists ;  it  has  always  been,  and  appropri- 
ately so,  the  headquarters  of  Canadian  military  life. 
Oswego,  its  old  opponent  across  the  lake,  has  gone 
through  no  less  of  a  transformation.  Covered  with 
streets  and  squares,  and  flanked  with  leafy  villas, 
it  is  a  place  of  much  repute,  and  in  addition  to  its 
attractions,  which  are  considerable,  is  famous  through- 
out the  world  wherever  men  eat  biscuits. 

"  Frontenac  is  a  great  stroke,"  wrote  Wolfe  with 
much  enthusiasm  when  he  heard  of  it.  "  An  offen- 
sive, daring  kind  of  war  will  awe  the  Indians  and 
ruin  the  French." 

Bradstreet  had,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  struck  awe 
into  the  Indians  in  the  very  nick  of  time,  had 
Wolfe,  far  away  at  Cape  Breton,  only  known  it. 
The  fall  of  Louisbourg  had  influenced  them  but  little ; 
it  was  too  remote.  Ticonderoga,  on  the  other  hand, 
had  shaken  the  fidelity  of  the  Six  Nations  so  seriously 
that  Bradstreet  found  evidence  to  show  that  they 
had  never  before  been  so  near  a  wholesale  defection 
to  the  French.  The  capture  of  Frontenac  had  effec- 
tually put  a  stop  to  this.  It  had  also  destroyed  the 
source  whence  Fort  Duquesne,  whither  we  are  now 
bound,  drew  its  stores  and  ammunition,  and  greatly 
contributed  to  its  fall. 

Abercromby  was  recalled  in  November,  and  Am- 
herst took  his  place  as  commander-in-chief  in 
America.  It  was  some  twenty  years  later,  in  the 
gloomy  period  of  the  Revolutionary  War,  that  North 
uttered  his  memorable  wail,  "  I  don't  know  whether 
the  enemy  are  afraid  of  my  generals,  I  only  know 
that  the  very  sound  of  their  names  makes  me  shiver." 
George  the  Second  up  till  now  might  well  have  anti- 
cipated the  sentiment  of  his  grandson's  minister ;  but 

267 


r 


.j%"fe 


:i/ ": 


i  1 


FORBES  AND  HIS  COMMAND  [1758 

a  change  was  coming.  The  Loudons,  the  Aber- 
crombys,  the  Webbs,  and  the  Sackvilles,  disappeared 
for  a  time  to  crop  up  again,  in  another  generation 
and  in  a  slightly  altered  form,  upon  this  very 
ground.  In  the  meantime,  we  must  turn  south  and 
see  how  Forbes  fared  in  his  arduous  march  across 
the  AUeghanies  to  Fort  Duquesne. 

John  Forbes  was  a  Scotsman,  of  Petincrief  in 
Fife.  He  received  his  first  commission  in  the  year 
1710,  and  must  therefore  have  been  some  sixty-four 
years  of  age.  He  had  been  colonel  both  of  the  Scots 
Greys  and  the  17th  foot,  and  was  now,  with  the  rank 
of  brigadier,  eminently  qualified  in  all  respects  but 
age  perhaps  and  health  to  justify  Pitt's  choice.  He 
had  been  a  year  in  America,  and  in  April  arrived  at 
Philadelphia  with  much  the  same  task  before  him, 
though  better  equipped  for  it,  as  had  confronted 
Braddock  three  years  previously  when  bound  for 
the  same  goal.  Of  regular  troops  he  was  to  ha^d 
the  62nd,  or  Montgomery's,  Highlanders,  1,260  strong, 
a  battalion  of  Royal  Americans  (60th),  363,  and 
4,350  provincials.  He  had  not,  however,  got  them 
yet.  Indeed,  Forbes  had  not  only  to  play  the  soldier 
and  the  organizer,  but  the  diplomatist  as  well, 
having  to  haggle  and  wrangle  with  the  Pennsylvania 
burgesses,  while  they,  on  their  part,  seized  the  oppor- 
tunity of  military  requirements  to  re-open  the  old 
congenial  squabble  touching  the  taxation  of  the 
Penns. 

Now  Forbes  was  a  man  of  liberal  and  enlightened 
views.  It  is  admitted  on  all  sides  that  he  had  none 
of  the  hauteur  and  superciliousness  in  his  treatment 
of  the  provincial  officers  that  distinguished  so  many 
of  his  contemporaries,  and  worked  such  infinite  and 

268 


1758] 


PROVINCIAL  OFFICERS 


far-reaching  mischief;  he  was  regarded,  moreover, 
by  all  classes  with  profound  respect.  His  comments, 
therefore,  on  the  fashion  in  which  the  middle  and 
southern  colonies  went  about  releasing  themselves 
from  the  clutch  of  the  enemy  and  provided  for 
their  future  development,  will  be  above  suspicion. 
Pennsylvania  made  a  really  heroic  effort,  and  out  of 
a  population  of  260,000  provided  2,500  men.  Mary- 
land, which  was  in  the  line  of  attack,  with  a  popula- 
tion of  near  a  hundred  thousand,  and  a  social  order 
based  on  the  ownership  of  slaves  and  land,  con- 
tributed 270  very  indifferent  soldiers.  Virginia  sur- 
passed herself,  and  gave  Forbes  two  regiments, 
comprising  in  all  some  1,400  men. 

Forbes,  admittedly  a  cool  and  impartial  judge,  was 
extremely  dissatisfied  with  these  levies.    Of  discipline 
they  were  all  impatient,  and  only  a  portion  of  them 
had  any  qualities  wherewith  to  make  up  the  deficiency. 
Numbers   of    them   came    with    damaged    firelocks 
bound  up  with  string ;  some  had  not  oven  this  much, 
but  walking  sticks  only  with  which  to  oppose  the 
French  !    "  Their  officers,"  said  Forbes,  "  except  a  few 
in  the  higher  ranks,  are  an  extremely  bad  collection 
of    broken    inn-keepers,   horse-jockeys,  and   Indian 
traders."    Where,  again  may  be  pertinently  asked, 
was  the  southern  chivalry,  the  sons  of  the  better- 
class  planters  and  squires?     Washington  had,  no 
doubt,  been  vainly  asking  this  question  for  the  last 
two  years  on  the  war-torn  borders  of  Virginia.   Now, 
when  he  joined  Forbes  with  his  increased  regiments, 
he  may  well  have  asked  it  again.  Virginia  and  Mary- 
land had  been  far  more  cruelly  scourged  in  their 
western  districts  than  Natal,  at  this  moment  of  writ- 
ing, and  by  a  still  ruder  and  incomparably  more  cruel 

269 


I  'i 


I  :^' 


h  \ 


;u 


I 


APATHY  OF  TEE  BETTER  CLASS  [1768 

foe.     The  supremacy  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  in  North 

America  was  as  clearly  the  issue  of  the  struggle  as  it 

is  to-day  in  South  Africa.     Tet  scarcely  a  dozen  men 

of  birth  and  character  came  forward  to  fight  out  of 

two  whole  colonies,  whose  numerous  gentry  was  their 

pride  and  is  still  the  chief  burden  of  their  reminiscent 

literature.     Even  if  two  or  three  or  four  dozen  such 

just  men  could  be  produced,  in  the  face  of  the  social 

statistics  of  these  provinces,  it  would  scarcely  modify 

the  situation.     As  I  remarked  in  a  former  chapter, 

— and  the  strangeness  of  the  matter  must  be  my 

excuse  for  mentioning  it  again,  —  neither  love   of 

country,  nor  thoughts  of  their  murdered  countrymen, 

nor  the  ordinary  martial  ardour  of  youth,  nor  the 

prospect  of  a  well-organized  and  well-led  campaign 

against  their  two  implacable  enemies,  seem  to  have 

had  the  least  effect  in  drawing  the  Virginians  and 

Marylanders  from  their  comfortable  homes.     With 

such  men  as  we  are  told  formed  the  bulk  of  the  fifty 

or  sixty  commissioned  officers  froni  these  colonies, 

it  is  not  surprising  that  Washington   stood  a  little 

on  his  dignity,  and  intimated  at  headquarters  that 

he  would  "  gladly  be  distinguished  from  the  common 

run   of    provincial    officer,"   whom   he   goes    on   to 

characterize  as  **  a  motley  herd."     The  rank  and  file 

were  poor  men,  more  lawless  and  less  tolerant  of 

discipline  and  of  a  lower  social  stamp  than  the  men 

of  the  New  England  regiments.     Some  of  them  were 

admirable  bush  fighters,  but  others  were  of  no  use 

at  all,  which  was  natural  enough,  seeing  the  varied 

districts  and  occupations  from  which  they  came,  and 

the  various  motives  which  caused  them  to  enlist. 

Forbes  had  for  his  chief  colleagues :  Bouquet,  the 
able    Swiss    officer    who    commanded    the    Royal 

270 


\\ 


i^pc. 


1768] 


RIVAL  ROUTES 


Americans :  and  Sir  John  Sinclair,  who  had  been  with 
Braddock  as  quartermaster-general  and  was  to  be 
so  again,  though  generally  disliked  and  not  over- 
capable.  Montgomery  was  in  command  of  the  High- 
landers, while  Washington  and  two  experienced  and 
tried  Virginia  soldiers.  Colonel  Byrd  and  Major 
Lewis,  the  latter  then  and  afterwards  a  famous 
Indian  fighter,  represented  the  provincials. 

Now  arose  a  sharp  controversy  as  to  the  best  route 
to  Fort  Duquesne.  Braddock's  road  started,  it  wil! 
be  remembered,  from  Fort  Cumberland  on  the  Poto- 
mac, and  here  Washington  with  his  Virginians  was 
now  quartered.  But  the  Pennsylvanians  and  the 
whole  interest  of  that  colony  were  in  favour  of 
cutting  a  new  road  which  would  make  the  actual 
wilderness  part  of  the  march  only  00  miles  instead 
of  122  as  before.  This  difference  of  opinion  was 
heavily  biassed,  too,  by  other  considerations.  Brad- 
dock's  road,  rough  as  it  had  been  at  the  best,  had 
fallen  into  disrepair,  but  it  was  the  outlet  of  Virginia 
trade  to  the  West,  or  was  expected  to  be,  and  the 
gorge  of  intercolonial  jealousy  rose  at  the  notion  of 
the  Pennsylvanians  having  a  direct  route  cut  for 
their  traders  at  the  expense  of  the  British  Govern- 
ment. This,  I  need  hardly  say,  was  not  one  of  the 
arguments  openly  put  forward  upon  either  side. 
These  were,  indeed,  numerous  and  admirable,  and  to 
their  respective  advocates  seemed  conclusive,  though 
we  nee  I  not  enlarge  upon  them.  It  will  be  sufficient 
to  remark  that  Washington,  probably  from  sincere 
conviction,  strongly  championed  the  Virginian  side 
of  the  question,  and  predicted  disaster  if  the  alter- 
native route  was  followed ;  while  Forbes  and  Bouquet 
inclined  to,  and   ultimately  adopted,  the  Pennsyl- 

271 


t 


mm 


m   I! 


h' 


^1 


'A 


*  - 


THE  PENNSYLVANIA  ROUTE    [1758 

vania  scheme.  In  justice  to  Washington,  it  should 
be  added  that  he  promised  to  render  all  the  assist- 
ance in  his  power  whether  his  advice  were  taken  or 
rejected. 

The  dispute  and  ill-feeling,  however,  between  the 
two  colonies  ran  very  high,  and  added  greatly  to 
Forbes'  troubles  in  providing  transport,  guns,  and 
provisions.  Philadelphia  was  a  far  different  kind  of 
base  from  the  plantation  villages  upon  which  poor 
Braddock  had  to  lean,  and  Pennsylvania,  though  as  a 
colony  conspicuously  pacific,  was  eminently  business- 
like, and  comparatively  well  supplied  with  the  neces- 
sities of  life  and  industry.  Lastly,  it  was  urged  that 
a  new  road  might  spring  a  surprise  on  the  French 
at  Fort  Duquesne,  as  indeed  de  L^vis  tells  us  it 
actually  did,  though  the  surprise  was  not  effective. 

Bedford,  then  called  Reastown,  was  the  advanced 
base  of  action.  Thence  by  the  new  route,  which 
crossed  no  large  rivers  as  did  the  other  one,  it  was 
ninety  miles  to  Duquesne.  But  every  yard  of  it  was 
rough,  and  it  climbed  the  same  ranges  as  Braddock's 
road,  somewhat  to  the  northward,  and  if  anything 
at  more  difficult  points.  Advanced  parties  were  sent 
forward  to  make  the  road  under  cover  of  redoubts, 
and  Forbes'  plan  was  to  erect  these  at  intervals,  so 
that  he  could  strike  his  final  blow  with  a  permanent 
chain  of  posts  in  his  rear,  and  obviate  all  risk  of  that 
unparalleled  stampede  of  over  a  hundred  miles  which 
made  Braddock's  disaster  so  memorable. 

It  was  not  till  the  end  of  July  that  the  route  was 
definitely  decided  upon,  and  Bouquet  then  went  for- 
ward to  superintend  the  road-making. 

But  with  all  his  energy  the  progress  of  the  Swiss 
officer  was  abnormally  slow,  for  there  were  6,000 

272 


it 


jf;^ 


\  \ 


1758] 


FORBES  AT  CARLISLE 


! 


men  this  time  to  convey  across  the  Alleghanies,  with 
guns  and  ammunition,  and  an  immense  transport. 
Virginia,  too,  though  incapable  of  furnishing  supplies 
and  whose  better  people  would  not  fight,  was  never- 
theless raging  at  the  favours  supposed  to  be  shown 
to  Pennsylvania.  The  latter  certainly  exhibited  little 
gratitude  for  them,  according  to  Forbes,  who  thus 
writes  to  Bouquet : — 

'*  I  have  seen  with  regret  this  some  time  past  a 
jealousy  and  suspicion  subsisting  on  the  part  of  the 
Virginians,  which  they  can  have  no  reason  for,  as  I 
believe  neither  you  nor  I  value  one  farthing  where 
we  get  provisions  from,  provided  we  are  supplied, 
or  interest  ourselves  either  with  Virginia  or  Penn- 
sylvania ;  which  last  I  hope  will  be  damned  for  their 
treatment  of  us  in  the  matter  of  wagons  and  every 
other  thing  where  they  could  profit  by  us,  as  from  these 
impositions,  although  at  the  risk  of  our  perdition." 

Carlisle  was  the  village  to  which  the  Indian  war  of 
the  last  three  years  had  thrust  back  the  Pennsylvania 
frontier.  Here  Forbes  remained  during  August,  pros- 
trate with  the  illness  that  was  soon  to  kill  him,  and 
managing  matters  in  the  rear  to  the  best  of  his 
ability,  while  Bouquet,  far  in  advance,  hewed  his 
slow  way  over  mountain  and  through  swamp.  Mat- 
ters progressed  wearily,  but  surely.  First  came  the 
news  of  Louisbourg,  and  shortly  after  that  of  Fron- 
tenac,  to  cheer  the  workers.  It  only  now  remained 
for  them  to  achieve  a  third  triumph  on  the  Ohio,  but 
the  country  offered  great  difficulties  to  the  engineers, 
while  at  the  same  time,  an  idea  of  permanency  for 
the  road  and  its  defences  had  always  to  be  kept  in 
view.  A  post  called  Loyalhannon,  nearly  fifty  miles 
short  of   Fort  Duquesne,  was  the  halfway  station 

273  T 


i 


I 


\ 


I      li 


Is 


If, 


•*: 


ll 


GRANT  SENT  FORWARD        [1758 

around  which  events  now  circulated  for  many  weeks. 
The  French  Indians  in  front  hegan,  at  this  point,  to 
get  troublesome  and  aggressive,  and  Major  Grant  of 
Montgomery's  Highlanders  made  a  proposition  to 
Bouquet  that  was  unfortunately  accepted,  though 
the  gallant  and  impetuous  officer's  experience  of 
backwoods  warfare  was  of  the  slightest. 

The  whole  method  of  Forbes'  advance  through  the 
wilderness  was  to  make  such  progress  only  as  was 
consistent  with  security.  The  object  for  which  Grant 
was  running  this  risk  is  not  very  obvious,  and  one  is 
only  surprised  that  Bouquet  allowed  him  to  take  it. 
His  idea  was  to  make  a  reconnaissance  of  the  fort  and 
ascertain  by  capturing  stragglers  or  other  means 
what  force  there  was  inside  it.  But  Forbes'  plans, 
if  once  he  got  there,  supported  as  he  was  by  so  large 
a  following,  were  calculated  to  succeed  in  the  face  of 
any  force  at  all  likely  to  be  present,  and  the  British 
had  provisions  for  three  months. 

However  that  may  be.  Grant  started  from  the 
advanced  camp  at  Loyalhannon  early  in  Septem- 
ber with  750  men — Highlanders,  Royal  Ameri- 
cans, and  a  picked  body  of  provincials  under 
Lewis.  They  reached  the  high  ridge  looking  im- 
mediately down  upon  the  fort  upon  the  13th  without 
adventure,  after  night  had  fallen.  From  the  same 
spot  to-day  a  vast  arena  of  belching  filame,  the  smoke, 
the  tumult,  and  the  din  of  a  second  Birmingham, 
would  greet  the  eyes  of  the  spectator ;  but  Grant  and 
his  men  looked  dimly  down  through  forest  trei3S  and 
saw  only  the  feeble  lights  of  a  lonely  fortress,  the 
broad  sheen  of  the  Monongahela,  and  elsewhere  a 
wide  world  of  shadowy  woodland  beneath  a  moonless 
but  starlit  sky. 

274 


I  \ 


1758] 


LEWIS 


So  far  there  was  greskt  uncertainty  as  to  the 
strength  of  the  garrison.  Indians  had  told  Bouquet 
that  it  was  at  least  equal  to  that  of  the  British. 
Grant,  however,  had  conceived  the  notion  th-^-t  it 
was  a  mere  handful  of  five  or  six  hundred  men. 
Grant,  as  it  so  happened,  was  nearer  the  truth, 
and  a  week  or  two  sooner  would  have  been  nearer 
still ;  but  reinforcements  had  quite  recently  arrived, 
and  there  seem  to  have  been  now  some  fifteen  hun- 
dred men  within  the  ramparts,  besides  Indians 
encamped  without  them. 

De  Ligneris,  whom  we  have  met  before,  was  in 
command,  and  de  Vaudreuil  seems  to  have  imagined, 
thanks,  of  course,  to  his  personal  exertions,  that  the 
fort  was  secure  from  all  attack.  About  two  in  the 
morning,  Lewis,  with  a  detachment  of  Virginians  and 
Highlanders,  was  ordered  down  into  the  plain  to 
attack  the  Indians,  supposed  to  be  encamped  before 
the  fort,  and  then  feigning  a  retreat,  to  draw  them 
out  to  an  ambush  where  Grant  and  the  rest  of  the 
party  were  to  give  them  a  warm  reception. 

Lewis  was  an  accomplished  frontiersman  and  be- 
longed to  a  well-known  fighting  family  of  the  Virginia 
border,  one  of  the  few  men  after  Washington's  own 
heart ;  but  on  this  occasion  he  got  into  sad  trouble. 
Grant  and  his  men  waited  in  vain  for  the  sound  of 
his  attack,  and  at  last,  as  the  first  streak  of  day  was 
showing,  the  Highland  officer  was  thrown  into  a  state 
of  rage  and  consternation  at  the  return  of  the  whole 
party,  who  had  lost  their  way  amid  the  woods  and 
fenced  enclosures  which  surrounded  the  fort  and 
fallen  into  hopeless  confusion.  Half  Lewis'  force 
were  Highlanders  new  to  bush  fighting.  If  Grant 
had  sent  the  pick  of  the  provincials  with  him,  the 

275 


11' 


■\ 


FORT  DUQUESXE 


[1758 


result  perhaps  might  have  been  otherwise;  but  it 
is  not  likely  in  any  case  to  have  been  substantial,  for 
Grant  had  underestimated  the  garrison,  and  still  con- 
tinued to  do  so.  One  object  of  the  expedition  was 
to  sketch  the  fort,  but  the  fog  at  dawn  was  so  thick 
as  to  disconcert  for  a  time  plans  of  any  kind.  Pre- 
sently, however,  it  began  to  clear,  and  Grant,  still 
under  the  impression  that  the  French  were  too  weak 
to  venture  a  serious  sortie,   made  his  dispositions. 

From  the  ridge  where  the  British  were  posted  they 
could  see  the  Alleghany  on  their  right  and  the  Monon- 
gahela  on  their  left,  sweeping  to  their  confluence 
immediately  below  and  in  front  of  them.  In  the 
angle  of  the  meeting  rivers,  whose  mingling  waters 
thenceforth  became  the  Ohio,  stood  the  famous  fort 
and  the  numerous  rude  buildings  within  and  without 
its  lines.  The  half-mile  or  so  of  flat  land  on  the  hither 
side  was  cleared,  fenced,  and  partly  cultivated  to  the 
edge  of  the  descending  ridges,  which  were  clothed  with 
forest.  It  was  now  about  seven  o'clock,  and  Grant, 
retaining  a  few  of  his  own  regiment  with  him,  des- 
patched his  Highlanders  under  Captain  Macdonald 
to  take  post  in  the  open  on  the  left  front  of  the  fort, 
and  a  hundred  Penusylvanians  on  the  right.  Lewis  he 
sent  back  with  some  Royal  Americans  and  Virginians 
to  reinforce  Captain  Bullitt  of  the  latter,  who,  with 
fifty  men,  was  guarding  the  baggage  about  a  mile 
to  the  rear.  Lewis  had  orders  to  stay  there  as  a 
support  for  the  attacking  party  in  case  of  need. 

The  French  all  this  time  appeared  to  be  unaware  of 
the  presence  of  an  enemy  ;  so  Grant,  by  way  of  stir- 
ring them  up  to  the  reality  of  the  fact,  proceeded  to 
blow  lively  airs  upon  his  bugles.  He  soon  found  that 
he  had  aroused  them  to  some  purpose ;  for  while  the 

276 


w 


1758] 


A  SORTIE 


Highland  officers  were  busy  sketching  the  fort,  French 
and  Indians,  to  the  number  of  seven  or  eight  hundred, 
came  pouring  out  of  it,  some  of  the  former  in  their 
hurry  not  having  even  stopped  to  dress.  Their  attack 
was  directed  against  the  Highlanders,  who,  reinforced 
by  Grant,  made  for  a  time  a  gallant  stand,  the  Penn- 
sylvanians  having  retired  with  some  precipitancy 
into  the  woods.  Fresh  bodies  of  French  came  crowd- 
ing out  of  the  fort,  till  Grant's  vanguard  was  in  great 
distress,  being  attacked  upon  all  sides.  Captain 
Macdonald  and  other  officers  were  killed,  and  the 
soldiers  were  forced  back  into  the  forest,  where  for 
nearly  an  hour  they  maintained  the  unequal  fight. 
At  last  they  could  hold  out  no  longer ;  it  was  their 
first  fight  in  woods  ringing  with  the  horrid  clamour 
of  Indian  warfare,  and  when  they  did  give  way  it 
was  in  a  wild  panic,  as  Grant  himself  admits.  His 
only  hope  now  lay  in  Lewis,  who  was  stationed,  as 
he  thought,  with  Bullitt  behind  the  wooded  ridge. 
But  Lewis  had  heard  the  battle  raging,  and  on  his 
own  responsibility  had  pressed  forward  to  Grant's  aid. 
Unhappily  he  took  a  different  route  in  his  advance 
over  the  ridge  to  that  which  Grant  followed  in  his 
quick  retreat,  so  when  the  latter  reached  his  base, 
hotly  pursued  by  the  enemy,  he  found  to  his  horror 
no  support  there  but  Bullitt  and  his  fifty  Virginians. 
Here  they  were  surrounded,  and  made  a  final  and 
gallant  stand.  Grant  refused  to  retire.  "My  heart 
is  broke,"  he  cried ;  "I  will  not  survive  this  day." 
He  was  recognised  by  the  French,  who  called  to  him 
repeatedly  by  name  to  give  himself  up  ;  but  the  rash 
and  luckless  officer  continued  to  fight  till  he  was  al- 
most alone,  when  he  was  disarmed  and  captured  alive. 
The  small  band  of  Virginians  with    Bullitt  fought 

277 


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GRANT'S  FORCE  OVERWHELMED  [1758 

heroically,  and  were  all  killed  except  such  as  escaped 
by  swimming  the  Alleghany  river.  Lewis  had  in  the 
meantime  run  into  the  very  jaws  of  the  French,  and 
he  was  also  made  prisoner.  Nearly  three  hundred 
men  were  killed,  drowned,  or  taken.  The  remaining 
four  hundred  and  fifty  straggled  back  to  Loyalhannon 
with  a  precipitancy  that  after  all,  when  once  they  had 
started,  was  the  only  nensible  course,  since  fifty  miles 
of  shaggy  wilderness  lay  between  them  and  their 
next  meal. 

Forbes,  stretched  upon  a  bed  of  sickness  at  Beas- 
town,  and  with  troubles  enough  already  on  hand, 
received  the  news  like  the  chivalrous  gentleman  he 
was,  and  called  no  names,  when  many  and  hard  ones 
might  well  have  been  looked  for  by  Grant,  who  was 
solely  responsible.  In  a  private  letter  to  Bouquet, 
however,  he  permitted  himself  some  little  indulgence 
this  respect.  "  My  friend  Grant  most  certainly  lost 
his  wits,  and  by  his  thirst  of  fame  brought  on  his 
own  perdition  and  ran  great  risk  of  ours." 

In  October,  while  the  British  column  still  lay  at 
Loyalhannon,  de  Ligneris  advanced  against  it  in 
considerable  force.  He  was  not  strong  enough  to 
actually  face  the  British  guns  and  intrenchments,  but 
he  caught  several  stragglers  and  destroyed  numbers 
of  cattle,  and  caused  Bouquet  infinite  annoyance. 
Washington,  who  had  been  at  Fort  Cumberland,  at 
the  other  end  of  Braddock's  road,  all  this  time,  with 
the  other  Virginia  regiment,  now  joined  the  army  and 
took  command  of  the  provincials. 

Autumn  on  the  Atlantic  slope  of  North  America  is 
of  all  seasons  the  most  stimulating  and  delightful. 
Bain,  as  a  rule,  falls  sparingly  or  in  short  spells,  and 
nature,  decked  in  a  raiment  gorgeous  beyond  dreams, 

278 


1758]  DIFFICULTIES  OF  THE  MABGH 

and  rarely  ruffled  by  storm  or  tempest;  slumbers  in 
balmy  silence  beneath  an  azure  sky.  Poor  Forbes,  like 
Washington,  upon  nearly  the  same  ground  four  years 
earlier,  encountered,  and  in  an  even  worse  degree, 
one  of  those  climatic  exceptions  that  prove  the  rule. 
Rain  fell  persistently,  and  fell  in  torrents,  while  pre- 
mature snow-storms  filled  his  cup  of  misery  to  the 
brim.  On  the  lower  grounds  the  new-made  road  was 
impassable  with  liquid  mud  ;  on  the  mountain  slopes 
the  torrents  swept  it  away  as  fast  as  it  was  made. 
Forage  began  to  get  scarce  and  the  horses  became  poor 
and  weak.  The  prospect,  lately  so  hopeful,  seemed 
now  well-nigh  desperate.  Bouquet  laboured  hard, 
against  the  warring  elements,  the  miry  swamps,  the 
torrent-riven  mountains,  and  with  transport  horses 
growing  daily  weaker.  Forbes,  whose  indomitable  will, 
rather  than  improving  health,  had  forced  him  on  to  the 
soaking  misery  of  Loyalhannon,  still  gave  his  orders 
in  person.  Tortured  with  pain,  and  scarce  able  to 
stand,  he  would  listen  to  no  suggestions  of  abandon- 
ing the  attempt  or  of  himself  returning  to  those 
comforts  which  were  his  only  chance  of  life.  It  was 
now  well  on  in  November,  and  some  of  the  Virginian 
officers,  presumably  the  best  authorities,  declared 
further  progress  to  be  impossible,  and  showed  such 
strong  feeling  that  Forbes,  unsupported  by  any 
following  to  speak  of,  called  a  council  of  war.  The 
officers  who  composed  this  were  good  and  tried  men, 
and  they  were  practically  unanimous  against  any 
further  advance  But  Forbes,  though  a  sobered  and 
middle-aged  soldier,  had  something  of  that  inspired 
obstinacy  which  distinguished  another  and  a  greater, 
but  a  younger  invalid,  whom  we  have  met  at  Louis- 
bourg,  and  shall  meet  again  at  Quebec.     Happily  for 

279 


u. 


nil 


i . '" 


m 


rii 
111 


I 


;  f^ 


FORBES'  UNCONQUERABLE  SPIRIT  [1768 

the  country  and  for  the  dying  general's  reputation 
— though  posterity  has  cared  little  enough  for  that 
— he  got  news  at  this  moment  of  a  reduction  in  the 
garrison  of  the  fort  and  that  the  Indians  were  de- 
serting it.  This  settled  the  matter  so  far  as  Forhes 
was  concerned,  and  he  gave  orders  for  twenty-five 
hundred  men  to  be  quickly  picked  from  the  army  for 
a  rapid  march,  each  man  to  carry  a  blanket  and  a 
few  days'  provisions. 

Forbes'  courage  in  urging  a  forward  advance  when 
men  like  Bouquet  and  Washington  were  against  it, 
thoroughly  deserved  this  piece  of  fortunate  news, 
which  made  success  so  much  more  probable ;  nor  was 
it  by  any  means  mere  good  luck,  for  oddly  enough 
the  causes  that  were  thinning  the  defenders  of  Fort 
Duquesne  were  duo  in  great  part  to  this  indomitable 
officer's  precautions  in  the  preceding  sununer.  He  had 
then  strongly  urged  that  the  western  Indians,  who  had 
so  long  been  ravaging  the  frontiers  of  Pennsylvania  and 
her  Southern  neighbours,  under  French  instigation, 
should  be  approached  by  diplomacy  as  well  as  arms. 
The  Indian  was  a  good  deal  influenced  by  his  stomach ; 
the  side  that  fed  him  besu  scored  at  least  one  very 
strong  point,  and  the  French  were  even  thus  early 
finding  it  necessary  to  husband  their  supplies.  Spies 
and  scouts  brought  news  that  discontent  was  already 
showing  in  the  French  camps  on  the  Ohio.  Forbes 
had  a  notion  that  these  savage  warriors,  who  ate 
bullocks  by  the  hundred  and  drank  brandy  by  the 
bucketful,  might  be  detached  from  their  patrons,  now 
that  the  bullocks  and  the  brandy  were  getting  scarce, 
and  that  hints  of  British  beef  and  perhaps  British 
rum  might  save  much  bloodshed  both  in  the  army 
and   on   the   frontier.       The   provincial   authorities 

280 


M 


IT  [1758 

reputation 
bfor  that 
ion  in  the 
3  were  de- 
as  Forhes 
wenty-five 
e  army  for 
iket  and  a 

ranee  when 
against  it, 
mate  news, 
le ;  nor  was 
dly  enough 
lers  of  Fort 
indomitable 
ler.   He  had 
ms,  who  had 
sylvaniaand 
instigation, 
ell  as  arms, 
his  stomach ; 
ist  one  very 
a  thus  early 
plies.     Spies 
was  already 
hio.     Forbes 
)rs,  who   ate 
andy  by  the 
patrons,  now 
stting  scarce, 
•haps  British 
in  the  army 
authorities 


1758] 


POST'S  MISSION 


thought  lightly  of  the  scheme,  and  moreover  grudged 
the  expenditure.  They  regarded  such  suggestions  as 
the  theories  of  an  Englishman  without  experience 
of  savages.  Nor,  indeed,  was  it  easy  to  find  an  am- 
bassador to  cross  the  Alleghanies,  and  run  the  gravest 
risk  of  death,  and  that  by  horrible  torture,  in  the 
Indian  villages,  where  English  scalps  were  hanging 
by  hundreds  on  the  wigwam  walls.  Forbes,  however, 
gained  his  point,  and  a  man  was  found  who  would 
face  the  fate  that  seemed  inevitable,  and  that,  too, 
without  reward.  This  hero  was  a  Moravian  mission- 
ary, and  a  German,  Post  by  name,  a  simple,  pious 
person,  but  intimate  with  Indian  ways  and  languages 
and  married  moreover  to  a  converted  squaw. 

Post  reached  the  Ohio  villages  in  safety,  and  was 
received  with  tolerable  civility ;  but  his  hosts  insisted 
on  taking  him  to  Duquesne,  that  the  French  might 
also  hear  what  he  had  to  say.    As  his  ostensible  mission 
was  to  wean  the  Indians  from  the  French  alliance 
to   those  peaceful  paths   of  which    his   order,    the 
Moravians,  were  the    chief    exponents,    it  was  not 
doubtful  what  the  French  would  say,  and  little  less  so 
what  they  would  do.     As  he  was  the  guest  of  their 
allies,  they  had  to  listen  to  Post,  and  did  not  venture 
to  kill  him  openly;    but  behind  every  thicket  they 
had  an  agent  waiting  to  take  his  life,  a  large  reward 
being  privately  offered  for  his  scalp.     With  indomi- 
table courage  Post  braved  the  whole  thing  out,  and, 
wonderful  to  relate,  with  impunity.    He  had  succeeded 
in  persuading  the  Indians  to  send  some  delegates,  at 
any  rate,  to  a  grand  conference  near  Philadelphia, 
had  shaken  their  allegiance  to  the  French,  and  withal, 
though  not  without  many  hair-breadth  escapes,  got 
safe  back  again  to  civilization.     A  great  meeting  was 

281 


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APPROACH  TO  FORT  DUQUESNE  [1758 

held  during  the  early  autumn,  presided  over  by  the 

Governor  of  Pennsylvania,  to  which  Johnson  brought 

delegates  of  the  Sik  Nations  from  the  Mohawk  and 

whither  also  went  some  of  the  chiefs  of  the  hostile 

Indians  of  the  West.     With  much  ceremony  and  a 

prodigious  wealth  of  oratory,  it  was  resolved  that 

the  Ohio  tribes  should  bury  the  hatchet  with  the  Six 

Nations,  which  was  a  step  at  least  in  the  desired 

direction.     Once  more  the  brave  Moravian  faced  the 

Alleghanies,  and  again  harangued  the  Indian  allies  of 

France  under  the  very  eyes  of  the  French  themselves, 

and  with  such  effect  that  the  latter  had  to  submit  to 

the  open  insults  of  barbarians  they  could  not  afford 

to  offend.     Post  again  escaped  safely,  having  done 

most  valuable  work,  which  was  greatly  aided  by  the 

scarcity  of  provisions,  a  condition  due  to  Bradstreet's 

brilliant  stroke  at  Frontenac,  the   source   of   their 

supplies.    So  after  an  alliance  of  three  years,  a  record 

jf  hideous  and  ceaseless  slaughter,  the  Ohio  Indians 

fell  away  from  the  French  at  the  very  moment  when 

the  gallant  Forbes  was  pushing  forward  to  reap  the 

fruits  of  his  earlier  policy,  that  unknown  to  him  had 

succeeded  almost  beyond  hope.      Swung  on  a  rude 

litter  between  two  horses,  he  was  led  in  the  van  of 

his  flying  column  through  the  snow  and  rain  and 

falling  leaves.     The  army  moved  in  three  divisions 

with  caution  and  in  open  order,  guided  through  the 

thick  forest  by  the  monotonous  tapping  of  their  own 

drums,  which  were  beat  without  ceasing  at  the  head 

of   each  company.     Thinly  clad,  and  with  a  single 

blanket  to  cover  them  at  nights,  the  men  pressed 

cheerily  forward  through  the  mysterious  mazes  of 

the  woods,  till  on  the  23rd  of  November  t^  )  guides 

had  brought  them  within  twelve  miles  of  the  fort. 

282 


4 


1758] 


THE  FORT  EVACUATED 


Here  the  unexpected  news  was  received  that  it  had 
been  abandoned.  They  halted  a  day  to  confirm  the 
report,  and  on  the  25th  moved  forward  to  find  the 
backwoods  fortress,  so  long  the  curse  of  British 
America,  standing,  silent  and  deserted  amid  a  fringe 
of  fire-scorched  ruins,  and  the  unburied  corpses  of 
their  own  Highlanders  who  had  fallen  in  Grant's 
attack.  Ihus  fell,  without  a  protest  from  rifle  or 
cannon,  the  very  stronghold  and  hope  of  French 
enipire  in  the  West,  and  the  scourge  of  the  British 
frontier. 

It  seems  that  de  Ligneris,  the  French  commander, 
had,  some  time  before  this,  formed  the  opinion  that 
an  attack  upon  him  was  impossible  before  the  follow- 
ing spring.  His  Indians,  as  we  know,  had  deserted, 
and,  fearful  of  his  provisions  running  short,  he  had 
furthermore  dismissed  all  his  troops  but  three  or  four 
hundred,  who  would  suffice  for  the  winter  garrison. 
But  he  had  not  long  taken  this  step  when  he  heard 
that  Forbes  was  in  truth  coming,  and  no  great  way 
off.  He  had  then  no  choice  but  to  abandon  the  post, 
doing  what  damage  he  could  do  it  before  leaving, 
and  throwing  its  guns  into  the  river. 

It  now  only  remained  to  make  the  fort  good  for  the 
reception  of  a  winter  garrison,  and  to  re-name  it. 
The  heroic  Forbes  had  entirely  collapsed  from  the 
fatigue  of  the  march,  and  for  some  days  his  life  was 
hanging  in  the  balance.  Once  again,  however,  the 
strong  will  conquered,  and  he  was  carried  out  among 
his  men  to  superintend  their  operations.  A  new  and 
suitable  name  for  the  conquered  fortress  was  not 
hard  to  find,  and  Duquesne  became  Fort  Pitt,  after 
the  great  minister,  whose  spirit  had  here,  as  every- 
where, been  the  source  of  British  triumph.     Colonel 

283 


\ 


I  ']■){, 


i' 


il 


I] 


m 


«•• 


; 


1.1 '• 


\ 


(•■ 


I 


BRITISH  GARRISON  DUQUESXE    [1758 

Mercer,  with  some  Virginians  and  Pennsylvanians, 
was  left  in  charge  of  the  fort,  and,  towards  the  close 
of  December,  Forbes,  stretched  upon  his  litter,  was 
borne  feet  foremost  in  the  midst  of  his  remaining 
troops  on  the  weary  homeward  journey  through  the 
freezing  forests.  Though  his  weakness  and  his  suffer- 
ings grew  worse  rather  than  better,  his  mind  at 
least,  was  now  at  ease.  His  task  was  accomplished, 
and  Ticonderoga  was  the  only  failure  of  the  year. 
The  French  were  driven  from  the  West,  their  connec- 
tions between  Canada  and  Louisiana  severed,  their 
prestige  with  the  Indians  broken,  and  the  demon  of 
Indian  warfare  on  the  Alleghany  frontier  apparently 
laid.  That  all  this  might  have  been  achieved  the 
next  year  or  the  year  after,  is  no  answer  to  the 
decisive  nature  of  Forbes'  work.  There  might  have 
been  no  next  year  or  year  after  for  military  achieve- 
ments in  America.  Peace  in  Europe  was  at  any 
moment  possible.  Events  there  might  take  a  sudden 
turn  that  would  make  boundary  lines  in  the  American 
wilderuess  appear  to  most  men  a  secondary  matter. 
Pitt  cherished  no  such  illusions  now ;  his  intentions 
to  drive  the  French  from  America  were  fixed  and 
clear.  But  circumstances  at  home  might  weaken  his 
arm ;  or  he  might  die,  for  his  life  was  none  of  the 
best,  and  it  was  of  vital  import  that  every  stroke 
should  be  driven  home  before  a  general  peace  was 
made.  A  French  garrison  anywhere  in  America 
would  have  been  hard  to  move  by  diplomatic  means, 
when  once  the  sword  was  sheathed. 

There  was  great  rejoicing  in  the  middle  colonies 
at  the  fall  of  Fort  Duquesne,  as  there  had  been  in 
New  England  at  the  fall  of  Louisbourg,  and  for  much 
the  same  reason,  since  each  had  been  relieved  of  a 

284 


^ 


'%'\ 


1768] 


DEATH  OF  FORBES 


neighbour  whose  chief  mission  had  been  to  scourge 
them.  In  England  the  news  was  received  with  pro- 
found satisfaction.  There  was  no  bell-ringing  and 
there  were  no  bonfires.  There  had  been  nothing 
showy  in  the  achievement,  and  its  import  was  hardly- 
realized.  The  glory  belonged  to  two  men,  and  their 
patient  heroism  was  not  of  a  kind  to  make  a  stir  in 
the  limited  press  of  the  period.  But  the  cool  fearless- 
ness of  Post  was  a  rarer  quality  than  the  valour 
which  faced  the  surf  and  batteries  of  Louisbourg, 
and  the  unselfish  patriotism  of  the  invalid  bi '  :adier 
was  at  least  as  noble  a  spectacle  as  that  of  the  High- 
landers who  flung  themselves  across  the  fiery  parapet 
at  Ticonderoga. 

It  was  nearly  300  miles  from  Fort  Duquesne  to 
Philadelphia,  and  Forbes  did  not  arrive  there  till 
January  14th.  Through  all  the  wilderness  part  of 
the  march,  men  had  been  sent  on  each  day  to  build  a 
rude  hut  with  a  stone  fireplace  for  the  dying  general. 
One  night,  says  an  officer,  some  muddle  had  been 
made,  and  the  unfortunate  Forbes  was  reduced  to 
insensibility  by  waiting  in  the  bitter  cold  for  fire  and 
shelter  to  be  provided.  It  took  some  time,  says  the 
writer,  to  bring  him  back  to  life  again  with  the  aid 
of  cordials.  He  lingered  a  short  time  after  reach- 
ing Philadelphia,  where  he  expired  early  in  March 
and  was  buried  in  Christ  Church  with  military 
honours.  The  place  of  his  grave  has  been  obscured 
by  alterations  and  lost  sight  of,  as  may  with  equal 
truth  be  said  of  his  services  and  his  unselfish  valour 
in  the  memory  of  his  fellow-countrymen. 

A  melancholy  incident  occurred  while  the  troops 
were  engaged  in  repairing  the  fort.  No  Englishmen 
had  stood  on  the  scene  of  Braddock's  defeat  since  its 

285 


J  1  ' 


■I  :l 


T" 


"?r 


fmrnm' 


I 


i     ' 


SCENE  OF  BBADDOGE'S  DEFEAT  [1758 

occurrence  three  and  a  half  years  previously,  so  a  party 
now  proceeded  up  the  Monongahela  to  visit  it,  among 
them  being  the  brigade  major,  Halkett,  whose  father 
and  brother,  it  will  be  remembered,  fell  dead  together 
at  the  same  moment.  The  victims  had  of  course 
never  been  buried,  and  the  ground  was  found  plenti- 
fully strewn  with  bones,  picked  clean  by  wolves  and 
buzzards  and  partly  hidden  by  the  withered  leaves  of 
four  successive  autumns.  Halkett's  immediate  object 
was  the  faint  hope  of  finding  and  identifying  the  re- 
mains of  his  relatives,  with  the  details  of  whose  death 
he  was  familiar  from  the  report  of  those  who  had  seen 
it.  Two  skeletons  were  found  close  together  under  a 
tree,  at  the  spot  where  Sir  Peter  and  his  son  had  fallen, 
one  of  which  Halkett  identified  beyond  a  doubt 
as  that  of  his  father,  from  a  peculiarity  of  the  teeth, 
while  the  well-known  manner  of  their  death  practi- 
cally marked  out  the  other  one  as  his  brother.  It  was 
a  gruesome  spectacle  for  the  survivor,  and  it  is  no 
discredit  to  the  young  officer,  nerved  though  he 
was  to  bloody  scenes,  that  he  broke  down  at  the 
contemplation  of  it  and,  as  we  are  told,  "swooned 
away." 

Pitt  h€id  good  reason  to  be  satisfied  with  the  results 
of  the  year's  fighting  in  America.  The  attack  on  the 
French  centre  had  failed,  but  that  upon  both  flanks, 
which  Louisbourg  and  Duquesne  may  fairly  be  called, 
had  been  crowned  with  victory,  while  the  destruction 
of  Frontenac  went  to  swell  the  triumph.  French 
prestige  with  the  Indians  outside  their  own  missions 
had  been  destroyed,  the  formidable  alliance  shattered, 
and  all  thoughts  of  further  aggression  from  Canada 
laid  at  rest.  It  now  remained  to  strike  at  the  heart 
of  Canada  a  deadly  blow,  which  would  wither  and 

286 


1768] 


THE  END  IN  SIGHT 


dry  up  those  distant  sources  of  wealth  and  influence 
to  herself  and  annoyance  to  her  foes,  which  stretched 
far  away  beyond  the  northern  lakes  and  to  the  venre 
of  the  distant  prairies. 


V' 


■      '  i': 


287 


AX  OBGIE  OF  BLOOD 


[1758 


(    If, 


Rv"?    f 


! 


CHAPTER  X 

MATTERS  had  gone  well,  too,  for  Pitt  in  Europe, 
where  he  had  shrewdly  fed  the  senseless  strife 
of  nations  with  money  rather  than  w>'h  men.  France, 
with  over  100,000  troops  in  the  field,  was  playing 
the  somewhat  inglorious  part  of  an  ally  to  her 
hereditary  foe  Austria,  and  with  the  further  aid  of 
Russia,  was  engaged  in  a  fruitless  attempt  to  crush 
tbr  heroic  Frederick.  She  had  now  been  driven  back 
across  the  Rhine,  after  a  short  occupation  of  Hanover, 
by  Prince  Ferdinand  acting  with  Pitt's  direct  support. 
Both  her  troops  and  her  generals  in  this  reckless  war 
fell  far  short  in  skill  and  spirit  of  their  handful  of 
compatriots  struggling  for  a  weightier  issue  across  the 
sea.  The  King  of  Prussia  held  out  against  his  legion 
of  foes,  and  was  performing  prodigies  of  valour,  amid 
fearful  scenes  of  carnage.  At  Zorndorp,  where  with 
35,000  men  he  encountered  and  repulsed  50,000 
Russians,  no  quarter  was  asked  or  given,  and  31,000 
men  fell ;  while  at  Hochkirchen  Frederick  himself 
lost  9,000  in  a  single  day  against  the  Austrians.  In 
odd  hours  snatched  from  the  fury  of  the  strife,  this 
extraordinary  man  still  wrote  verses  and  lampoons  ; 
but  Madame  de  Pompadour  and  her  miserable  Louis 
were  now  smarting  under  something  worse  at  the 
hands  of  the  Prussian  than  his  caustic  pen.  England 
rang  with  his  triumphs,  and,  by  a  perversion  pecu- 

288 


\\ 


[1758 


in  Europe, 
leless  strife 
,ii.   France, 
ras  playing 
,lly   to   ber 
ther  aid  of 
,pt  to  crush 
driven  back 
of  Hanover, 
rect  support, 
reckless  war 
[r  handful  of 
3ue  across  the 

nst  his  legion 
I  valour,  amid 
5,  where  with 
^^ed.    50,000 
.n,  and  31,000 
lerick  hunself 
^.ustrians.     !» 
,he  strife,  this 
Mid  lampoons ; 

userable  Louis 
worse  at  the 
pen.    England 
(rversion  pecu- 


1769]  BRITISH  CONFIDENCE  UNDER  PITT 

liarly  British,  the  scoffing  freethinker  became  the 
"  Protestant  hero  "  in  both  church  and  taproom.  Pitt 
was  omnipotent  in  Parliament ;  only  a  single  insig- 
nificant member  ever  ventured  to  oppose  him.  "  Our 
unanimity  is  prodigious,"  wrote  Walpole.  "You 
would  as  soon  hear  a  '  No '  from  an  old  maid  as  from 
the  House  of  Common^i."  Newcastle  was  supremely 
happy  among  jobbers  and  cringing  place-hunters 
under  the  full  understanding  that  neither  he  nor  his 
kind  trespassed  within  the  sphere  of  foreign  politics. 
The  estimates  had  exceeded  all  former  limits,  and 
reached  for  those  days  the  enormous  sum  of  12^ 
millions.  The  struggle  with  France  was  vigorously 
waged  too  upon  the  ocean,  warships,  privateers, 
and  merchant  men  grappling  to  the  death  with  one 
another  in  many  a  distant  sea,  while  the  main  fleets 
of  the  enemy  were,  for  the  most  part,  blockaded  in 
their  ports  by  vigilant  British  armaments.  Every- 
where was  exhilaration  and  a  superb  feeling  of  con- 
fidence, engendered  by  incipient  successes,  and  by  the 
consciousness  that  the  nation  was  united  in  purpose, 
and  that  the  leaders  of  its  enterprises  were  no 
longer  chosen  because  they  were  "rich  in  votes  or 
were  related  to  a  Duke." 

James  Wolfe  had  certainly  neither  of  these  qualifi- 
cations, and  he  it  was  who  Pitt  designed  to  act  the 
leading  part  in  the  coming  year,  "  a  greater  part,"  he 
modestly  wrote  after  receiving  his  appointment, 
"than  I  wished  or  desired.  The  backwardness  of 
some  of  the  older  officers  has  in  some  measure  forced 
the  Government  to  com  e  down  so  low.  I  shall  do  my 
best  and  leave  the  rest  to  fortune,  as  perforce  we 
must  when  there  are  not  the  most  commanding  abili- 
ties.   A  London  life  and  little  exercise  disagrees  with 

289  u 


h  . 


!.'" 


i 


:  !  Ii 


')i 


i  tP 


WOLFE'S  APPOINTMENT 


[1759 


■# 


rl 


)■ 


me  entirely,  but  the  sea  still  more.  If  I  have  health 
and  constitution  enough  for  the  campaign,  I  shall 
think  myself  a  lucky  man  ;  what  happens  afterwards 
is  of  no  great  consequence." 

"Wolfe  had  returned  from  Nova  Scotia  the  previ- 
ous October  in  the  same  ship,  strangely  enough,  with 
the  hapless  Abercromby.  As  the  chief  hero  of  an 
exploit  which  had  sent  all  England  into  transports  of 
joy,  it  is  significant  that  he  went  quietly  from  Ports- 
mouth to  his  regiment  at  Salisbury,  and  encountered 
some  difficulty  in  3;etting  leave  of  absence  on  urgent 
family  matters.  Even  yet  a  brilliant  soldier  without 
backstair  influence  got  scant  consideration  in  his 
private  concerns,  whilo  a  military  cypher  with  friends 
at  Court  could  do  almost  what  he  pleased.  Wolfe» 
however,  eventually  got  away,  and  hurried  to  Bath  to 
"  patch  up  his  wretched  constitution  "  for  any  service 
he  might  be  called  upon.  It  was  here  in  December 
that  he  received  and  accepted  Pitt's  offer  of  the  com- 
mand of  an  expedition  against  Quebec.  He  had  just 
become  engaged  to  a  Miss  Lowther,  sister  of  the  first 
Lord  Lonsdale.  Wolfe's  earlier  love  affair  had  affected 
him  so  deeply  and  for  so  long  a  p  ^rlod,  it  is  doubtful 
if  there  was  much  romance  about  thit:  me.  But  he 
had  in  any  case  scant  time  for  improving  the  occasion, 
his  hands  being  now  full  with  the  great  enterprise  on 
which  he  was  bound  in  the  early  spring. 

Pitt's  plan  for  the  coming  season  in  America  was  to 
strike  two  great  blows  at  Canada  and  a  lesser  one, 
which,  if  successful,  would  involve  the  conquest  of 
that  country.  Wolfe,  aided  by  a  fleet,  was  to  attack 
Quebec;  Amherst  with  another  force  was  to  push 
through  by  the  Lake  Champlain  route  and  unite 
with  him  if  possible.     A  further  expedition  was  to 

290 


[1759 
Bive  health 
afterwards 

the  previ- 
lough,  with 
hero  of  an 
:ansports  of 
from  Ports- 
encountered 
;e  on  urgent 
dier  without 

ition   in  ^^^ 
with  friends 

tsed.    Wolfe, 
ed  to  Bath  to 
»r  any  service 
in  December 
,r  of  the  com- 
He  had  j^s^ 
er  of  the  Brst 
[r  had  affected 
it  is  do-*htf  ul 
,  me.    But  be 
[g  the  occasion, 
enterprise  on 

[g. 

America  was  to 

[d  a  lesser  one, 
le  conquest  of 
t  was  to  attack 
e  was  to  push 
■  ute  and  unite 
.edition  was  to 


1759] 


WOLFE'S  BRIGADIERS 


be  sent  against  Niagara  under  Prideaux  :  but  for  the 
present  we  are  concerned  only  with  the  first  and  by 
far  the  most  memorable  of  the  three. 

Wolfe  at  this  time  was  colonel  of  the  67th  regiment. 
He  was  to  have  brevet  rank  only  of  major-general 
while  in  America,  since  more  substantial  elevation 
would,  in  the  eyes  of  Newcastle  and  his  friends,  have 
been  almost  an  outrage  on  the  British  Constitution 
as  by  them  interpreted.  Pitt  and  his  young  officers, 
however,  were  well  content  to  waive  such  trifles  for 
the  present,  and  concede  so  much  of  consolation  to 
the  long  list  of  rejected  incapables,  in  return  for  such 
honour  and  glory  as  might  perchance  be  theirs. 
Wolfe's  brigadiers  in  the  forthcoming  enterprise 
were  to  be  Monckton,  Townshend,  and  Murray.  The 
first,  whom  we  have  already  met  in  Nova  Scotia,  and 
the  last  were  men  after  Wolf e'e  own  heart.  Towns- 
hend, though  not  a  bad  soldier,  was  inclined,  on  the 
strength  of  his  connection,  to  give  himself  airs,  was 
of  a  queer  disposition,  and  was  jealous  of  his  young 
chief.  Wolfe  nominated  his  friend  Carleton,  of  whose 
efficiency  he  was  well  assured,  a>s  quartermaster- 
general  ;  but  the  King  passed  his  pen  through  the 
name,  as  Carleton  was  credited  with  certain  uncom- 
plimentary remarks  concerning  Hanoverians.  Wolfe, 
Lrvwever,  remonstrated  with  much  spirit,  insisting 
that  if  a  general  was  to  have  grave  responsibility, 
it  was  only  logical  and  fair  that  he  should  choose 
his  own  subordinates.  Pitt  good-naturedly  went 
back  to  the  King,  who,  after  some  grumbling,  at  last 
yielded  the  point. 

The  land  force  was  to  consist  of  12,000  men,  a  few 
of  whom  were  to  sail  from  England,  but  the  bulk 
were  to  be  drawn  from  the  American  and  West  Indian 

291 


I 


H 


■  i 


■am 


■■"      1 1 


^1 


'    1 . 


■r 


ARMY  COLLECTS  AT  LOUISBOUBG  [1759 

garrisons.  The  latter,  however,  were  counter-ordered : 
the  former  proved  to  be  below  the  estimated  strength, 
and  the  actual  number  that  gathered  in  Louisbourg, 
the  point  of  rendezvous,  was  only  about  8,500.  The 
command  of  the  fleet  was  given  to  Admiral  Saunders, 
and  this  appointment  demanded  great  discretion,  as 
the  sailor  in  this  instance  had  not  only  to  be  efficient 
on  his  own  element,  but  to  be  a  man  of  tact,  and  one 
who  at  the  same  time  would  put  patriotism  above 
professional  jealousy,  and  could  be  trusted  to  work 
heartily  with  the  land  forces. 

It  was  late  in  February  when  Saunders'  fleet  con- 
voying Wolfe,  his  stores  and  a  few  troops  sailed  from 
Spithead.  The  winds  being  adverse  and  the  seas  run- 
ning high.  May  had  opened  before  the  wild  coast  of 
Nova  Scotia  was  dimly  seen  through  whirling  wreaths 
of  fog.  It  was  a  late  season,  and  Louisbourg  harbour 
was  still  choked  with  ice,  so  the  fleet  had  to  make 
southwards  for  Halifax  at  the  cost  of  much  of  that 
time  which  three  years'  experience  had  at  length 
taught  the  British  was  so  precious  in  all  North 
American  enterprises.  At  Halifax  Wolfe  found  the 
troops  from  the  American  garrisons  awaiting  him. 
Among  them  was  the  43rd  regiment,  with  the  gallant 
Major  Knox,  our  invaluable  diarist,  filled  with  joy  at 
the  prospect  of  active  service  after  twenty  months' 
confinement  in  a  backwoods  fort,  and  ready  with  his 
sword  as  happily  for  us  he  was  with  his  pen.  In  a 
fortnight  Louisbourg  was  open,  and  both  fleet  and 
transports  were  grinding  amidst  the  still  drifting  ice 
in  its  harbour.  Here  again  the  army  was  landed,  and 
its  numbers  coraploted  from  the  Louisbourg  garrison. 

There  was  naturally  much  to  be  done  with  an  army 
brought  together  from  so  many  various  quarters. 

292 


! '  II 


iGt  [1759 

r-ordered: 
1  strength, 
.ouisbourg, 
1,500.    The 
I  Saunders, 
Bcretion,  as 
be  efficient 
bct,  and  one 
►tism  above 
,ed  to  work 

rs'  fleet  con- 
,  sailed  from 
ihe  seas  run- 
seild  coast  of 
:Ung  wreaths 
3urg  harbour 
had  to  make 
tnuch  of  that 
i,d  at  length 
In  all   North 
f e  found  the 
^waiting  him. 
bh  the  gallant 
3d  with  joy  at 
^enty  months* 
:eady  with  his 
lis  pen.    In  a 
both  fleet  and 
ill  drifting  ice 
ras  landed,  and 
)Ourg  garrison. 
3  with  an  army 
rious  quarters. 


1759]  HIGH  STATE  OF  DISCIPLINE 

The  force,  too,  proved,  as  I  have  said,  far  short  of  the 
estimate,  being  considerably  under  9,000  men;  but, 
on  the  other  hand,  these  were  all  good  troops  and 
mostly  veterans.  Though  the  benefits  of  Bath  waters 
had  been  more  than  neutralized  by  nearly  three 
months  of  buffeting  on  the  element  he  so  loathed, 
Wolfe  spared  himself  no  effort.  He  was  not  only  a 
fighting  but  to  the  highest  degree  an  organizing 
general.  Every  sickly  and  unlikely  man,  small  as 
was  his  force,  was  weeded  out.  Every  commissariat 
detail  down  to  the  last  gaiter  button  was  carefully 
scrutinized.  Seldom  had  England  sent  out  a  body 
of  men  so  perfect  in  discipline,  spirit,  and  material  of 
war,  and  assuredly  none  so  well  commanded  since  the 
days  of  Marlborough.  It  was  well  it  was  so,  seeing 
that  they  were  destined  to  attack  one  of  the  strongest 
posts  in  the  world,  defended  by  an  army  nearly  twice 
as  numerous  as  themselves,  and  fighting,  moreover, 
in  defence  of  its  home  and  country,  and,  as  it  fully 
believed,  of  its  religion. 

Wolfe's  force  was  made  up  of  the  following  regi- 
ments and  corps.  Under  Monckton  in  the  first  brigade 
were  the  15th,  43rd,  58th,  and  78th  regiments,  usually 
known  then  as  Amherst's,  Kennedy's,  Anstruther's, 
and  fVaser's  (Highlanders)  respectively.  The  second 
brigade,  under  Townshend,  comprised  the  28th  and 
the  47th  or  Bragg's  and  Lascelles',  with  the  second 
battalion  of  the  60th  or  Boyal  Americans.  With 
Murray  in  the  third  brigade  were  the  35th  and  48th 
or  Otway's  and  Webb's,  and  the  third  battalion  of 
the  60th.  Besides  these  were  three  companies  of 
Grenadiers  from  the  22nd,  40th,  and  45th  regiments, 
and  a  corps  of  light  infantry,  all  from  the  Louisboui^ 
garrison.  Of  colonial  troops  there  were  only  five 
companies  of  rangers. 

29'* 


'I 


'i 


•I 


)»■; 


,  1  H 


'H'<ll 


k 


m" 


tfy 


»       ' 


BRITISH  ENTER  THE  ST.  LAWRENCE  [1759 

The  young  general  was  thoroughly  alive  to  the 
numerical  weakness  of  his  force,  but  that  he  rejoiced 
in  its  efficiency  is  evident  from  his  letters,  and  he  was 
hard  to  please.  "If  valour  can  make  amends  for 
want  of  numbers,"  he  wrote  to  Pitt,  "  we  shall  suc- 
ceed." 

Admiral  Durell,  with  ten  ships,  had  been  sent  for- 
ward early  in  May  to  stop  French  supply  or  warships 
from  ascending  the  St.  Lawrence  when  navigation 
opened.  It  was  the  1st  of  June  when  Wolfe  and 
Saunders  with  the  main  army  followed  him,  owing 
to  fog  and  ice  and  contrary  winds,  in  somewhat 
straggling  fashion.  The  bands  played  the  time- 
honoured  air  of  "The  girl  I  left  behind  me,"  and 
the  men  cheered  lustily  as  the  ships  cleared  the  bar, 
while  at  the  mess  tables,  says  Knox,  there  was  only 
one  toast  among  the  officers — "British  colours  on 
every  French  fort,  post,  and  garrison  in  America." 
With  Saunders  went  twenty-two  ships  of  the  line — 
five  frigates  and  seventeen  sloops  of  war — ^besides 
the  transports.  By  the  7th  of  June  all  were  sailing 
well  together  along  the  gloomy  shores  of  Newfound- 
land, whose  desolate  russet  uplands  were  thickly 
powdered  with  a  belated  snowstorm.  A  week  later 
they  had  left  behind  that  hundred  miles  of  shaggy 
forest  which  to  this  day  envelopes  the  desert  island 
of  Anticosti,  and  were  forging  more  cautiously 
along  the  lower  reaches  of  the  St.  Lawrence.  All 
went  smoothly  till  the  20th,  when,  the  wind  drop- 
ping, they  were  caught  in  the  cross-currents  caused 
by  the  outpouring  waters  of  the  Saguenay,  which, 
draining  a  vast  mountain  wilderness  to  the  north- 
ward, would  be  accounted  a  mighty  river  if  it  were 
not  for  the  still  mightier  one  that  absorbs  it.     Here 

294 


OE  [1759 

ire  to  the 
e  rejoiced 
ndhewas 
uends  for 
shall  suc- 

a  sent  f  or- 
r  warships 
navigation 
Wolfe  and 
tiim,  owing 
somewhat 
the  time- 
1  me,"  and 
ed  the  har, 
ire  was  only 
colours  on 
n  America." 
>f  the  line — 
var— hesides 
were  sailing 
E  Newfound- 
vere   thickly 
^  week  later 
es  of  shaggy 
desert  island 
o    cautiously 
kWrence.     All 
9  wind  drop- 
rrents  caused 
lenay,  which, 
to  the  north- 
ver  if  it  were 
orhsit.    Here 


1759] 


UNWILLING  PILOTS 


the  ships  ran  some  risk  of  fouling,  hut  escaped  any 
serious  damage,  and  in  three  days  were  at  the  He 
aux  Coudres,  where  the  real  dangers  of  the  naviga- 
tion began.  It  must  be  remembered  that  such  a 
venture  was  unprecedented,  and  regarded  hitherto 
as  an  impossibility  for  large  ships  without  local  pilots. 
The  very  presence  of  the  first  made  the  second  possi- 
ble, for  some  of  the  vessels  approaching  the  shore  ran 
up  French  flags,  whereupon  numbers  of  the  country 
people,  in  response  to  an  invitation,  came  on  board, 
little  guessing  the  visitors  could  be  their  enemies. 

Pilots  were  by  this  ruse  secured,  and  their  services 
impressed  under  pain  of  death.  Durell,  too,  was  wait- 
ing here,  ignorant  of  the  fact  that  several  French 
provision  ships  had  slipped  past  him  in  the  fog. 
Three  of  his  midshipmen,  larking  on  the  shore,  had 
been  captured  and  carried  to  Quebec,  but  had  found 
much  consolation  and  caused  no  little  anxiety  in  the 
city  by  doubling  the  strength  of  the  British  force, 
when  interrogated  by  Montcalm.  Knox,  who  under- 
stood French,  tells  us  that  the  poor  unwilling  pilot 
who  took  his  ship  up  the  tortuous  channel  made  use 
of  the  most  frightful  imprecations,  swearing  that 
most  of  the  fleet  and  the  whole  army  would  find  their 
graves  in  Canada.  An  old  British  tar,  on  the  other 
hand,  master  of  a  transport  and  possessed  of  an  im- 
mense scorn  for  foreigners,  would  not  allow  a  French 
pilot  to  interfere,  and  insisted,  in  the  teeth  of  all 

remonstrance,  on  navigating  his  own  sjiip.     "  D n 

me,"  he  roared,  "  I'll  convince  you  that  an  Englishman 
shall  go  where  a  Frenchman  daren't  show  his  nose," 
and  he  took  it  through  in  safety.  "The  enemy," 
wrote  Vaudreuil  soon  after  this  to  his  Government, 
"  have  passed  sixty  ships  of  war  where  we  daro  not 

295 


f 

.11- 


J' 


,( 


% 


i  V 


'M 


'1 


MONTCALM 


[1759 


iT'  " 


I 


fi.  i   ' 


i/  /  > 


''!•: 


V  1 


risk  a  vessel  of  a  hundred  tons  by  night  or  day."  The 
British  navy  has  not  been  sufficiently  remembered  in 
the  story  of  Quebec. 

Let  us  now  turn  for  a  moment  to  Montcalm,  and 
see  what  he  has  been  doing  all  this  time  to  prepare 
for  the  attack.  It  was  an  accepted  axiom  in  Canada 
that  no  armament  strong  enough  to  seriously  threaten 
Quebec  could  navigate  the  St.  Lawrence.  In  the  face 
of  expected  invasion  it  was  the  Lake  George  and 
Ghamplain  route  that  mostly  filled  the  public  mind. 
Bougainville,  however,  had  returned  from  France 
early  in  May  with  the  startling  news  that  a  large  ex- 
pedition destined  for  Quebec  was  already  on  the  sea. 
A  former  opinion  of  this  able  officer's  declared  that 
three  or  ^'tycr  "  ^usand  men  could  hold  the  city  against 
all  comerfc>.  'ixc^  was  now  four  times  that  strength 
waiting  for  VV  oi  jre,  while  his  own,  so  far  as  numbers 
went,  we  Vvow  aiready.  Eighteen  transport  ships, 
carrying  suppiii;,  anu  r  jme  slight  reinforcements,  had 
slipped  past  the  Engnsk  cruisers  in  the  fogs,  and 
brought  some  comfort  to  Montcalm.  The  question 
now  was  how  best  to  defend  Quebec,  as  well  as  make 
good  the  two  land  approaches  at  Ticonderoga  and 
Lake  Ontario  respectively. 

For  the  defence  of  the  city,  when  every  able- 
bodied  militiaman  had  been  called  out,  nearly  16,000 
troops  of  all  arms  would  be  available.  About  the 
disposition  of  these  and  the  plan  of  defence  there  was 
much  discussion.  Montcalm  himself  was  for  a  long 
time  undecided.  The  alternative  plans  do  not  concern 
us  here ;  the  one  finally  adopted  is  alone  to  the 
point.  Every  one  knows  that  the  ancient  capital  of 
Canada  is  one  of  the  most  proudly  placed  among  the 
cities  of  the  earth.     But  it  may  be  well  to  remind 

296 


& 


[1759 

ay."   The 
abered  in 

calm,  and 
0  prepare 
n  Canada 
f  threaten 
a  the  face 
jorge   and 
blic  mind, 
m  France 
a,  large  ex- 
jn  the  sea. 
ilared  that 
jity  against 
it  strength 
LS  numbers 
port  ships, 
jments,  had 
fogs,  and 
le  question 
ell  as  make 
deroga  and 

every   able- 
early  16,000 

About  the 
e  there  was 

for  a  long 
not  concern 
one  to  the 
it  capital  of 
i  among  the 
1  to  remind 


1759] 


POSITION  OF  QUEBEC 


those  who  have  not  seen  it,  that  it  occupies  the  point 
of  a  lofty  ridge,  forming  the  apex  of  the  angle  made 
by  the  confluence  of  the  St.  Charles  River  and  the  St. 
Lawrence.  Westward  from  the  city  this  ridge  falls  so 
nearly  sheer  into  the  St.  Lawrence  for  several  miles, 
that,  watched  by  a  mere  handful  of  men,  it  was  im- 
pregnable. Moreover,  the  river  suddenly  narrows  to 
a  breadth  of  three-quarters  of  a  mile  opposite  the 
town,  whose  batteries  were  regarded  as  being  fatal  to 
any  attempt  of  an  enemy  to  run  past  them.  On  the 
other  side  of  the  town  the  St.  Charles  River,  coming 
in  from  the  north-west  immediately  below  its  walls, 
formed  a  secure  protection.  Montcalm,  however,  de- 
cided to  leave  only  a  small  garrison  in  the  city  itself, 
and  go  outside  it  for  his  main  defence.  Now,  from 
the  easterr^.  bank  of  the  mouth  of  the  St.  Charles, 
just  below  the  city,  there  extends  in  an  almost 
straight  line  along  the  northern  shore  of  the  St. 
Lawrence  a  continuous  ridge,  the  brink,  in  fact,  of  a 
plateau,  at  no  point  far  removed  from  the  water's 
edge.  Six  miles  away  this  abruptly  terminates  in 
the  gorge  of  the  Montmorency  River,  which,  rushing 
tumultuously  towards  the  St.  Lawrence,  makes  that 
final  plunge  on  to  its  shore  level  which  is  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  objects  in  a  landscape  teeming  with 
natural  and  human  interest.  Along  the  crown  of 
this  six-mile  ridge,  known  in  history  as  "  the  Beauport 
lines,"  Montcalm  decided  to  make  his  stand.  So, 
throughout  the  long  days  of  May  and  June  the 
French  devoted  themselves  to  rendering  impregnable 
from  the  front  a  position  singularly  strong  in  itself, 
while  the  Montmorency  and  its  rugged  valley  pro- 
tected the  only  flank  which  was  exposed  to  attack. 
At  Beauport,  the  village  which  occupied  the  centre 

297 


i 


if 


J' 


I 


ARRIVAL  OF  THE  BRITISH    [1759 

of  the  ridge,  Montcalm  took  up  his  headquarters 
with  considerable  confidence  in  the  result  of  his  pre- 
parations. In  the  city  away  upon  his  right  he  had 
left  De  Bamezy  in  command,  who  has  given  us  a 
journal  of  the  siege;  but  the  city,  though  not  safe 
from  bombardment,  was  impregnable  as  things  were 
now  to  assault.  In  his  own  embattled  lines  Mont- 
calm had  nearly  fourteen  thousand  men  as  strongly 
intrenched  as  nature  and  art  could  make  them. 
Below  him  spread  the  river,  here  over  two  miles  in 
width  from  shore  to  shore,  with  the  western  point 
of  the  island  of  Orleans  overlapping  his  left  flank. 
Above  the.  woods  of  this  long,  fertile  island,  then  the 
garden  of  Canada,  the  French,  upon  the  27th  of  June, 
first  caught  sight  of  the  pennons  flying  from  the  top- 
masts of  the  English  battleships,  and  before  evening 
they  witnessed  the  strange  sight  of  red-coated  infan- 
try swarming  over  its  well-tilled  fields.  It  was,  indeed, 
some  days  since  the  bonfires  announcing  the  actual 
approach  of  the  British  had  flared  upon  the  mountain 
tops  along  the  northern  shore  of  the  St.  Lawrence, 
and  the  excitement  in  and  around  Quebec  had  grown 
to  fever-heat.  Wolfe  himself,  with  MackeUar,  his 
chief  engineer,  who  had  been  both  with  Forbes  and 
Braddock,  was  among  the  first  to  land  upon  the 
island,  and,  taking  his  stand  upon  its  western  point, 
scanned  the  noble  outlook  with  eager  gaze,  and  tried 
to  realize  the  task  that  Pitt  had  set  him. 

Westward,  across  four  miles  of  yet  smooth  and  sun- 
lit water,  the  great  and  virgin  stronghold  of  French 
power  clung  to  its  rocky  throne.  From  the  river's 
edge  to  the  summit  of  Cape  Diamond  rose  a  city  that 
proclaimed  its  character  at  a  glance,  and  abjured  all 
fellowship  at  once  with  the  great  trading  marts  of 

298 


Wi-ldi^ 


I    [1759 

dquarters 
£  his  pre- 
lit  he  had 
iven  us  a 
i  not  safe 
ings  were 
ties  Mont- 
3  strongly 
ike   them. 
0  miles  in 
tern  point 
left  flank. 
1,  then  the 
ih  of  June, 
m  the  top- 
ire  evening 
eited  inf  an- 
<ras,  indeed, 
the  actual 
e  mountain 
Lawrence, 
had  grown 
[jkellar,  his 
Forhes  and 
i  upon  the 
stem  point, 
;e,  and  tried 

)th  and  sun- 
d  of  French 
L  the  river's 
B  a  city  that 
abjured  all 
Qg  marts  of 


'7' 


^a 


Mr" 


(! 


■ 


!  / 


ail 


^ 


!♦ 


i    j 


\ra 


Ifffjl' 


1759]  WOLFE  SURVEYS  THE  SITUATION 

brick  and  wood  that  greeted  the  visitor  to  the  Eng- 
lish colonies.     Trade,  indeed,  there  was-of  a  sort ;  but, 
mounting  one  above  the  other,  tier  above  tier,  spire 
and  belfry,  church  and  monastery,  barrack  and  battery, 
proclaimed  rather  the  stronghold  of  the  soldier  and 
the  priest.     As  the  gaze  of  Wolfe  and  his  officers 
travelled  backward  to  their  right  along  the  northern 
shore,  they  could  see  the  long   intrenched  lines  of 
Beauport  extending  past  them  to  where  the  mighty 
cataract  of  Montmorency  flashed  against  its  back- 
ground of  green  woods.    The  young  general,  how- 
ever, had  not  much  time  that  evening  to  consider  the 
situation,  which  may  well  have  appalled  a  less  stout 
heart  than  his,  for  the  troops  had  scarcely  lauded 
when  a  sudden  sununer  storm  burst  upon  the  scene, 
churned  the  river  into  angry  waves,  broke  some  of 
the  smaller  ships  from  their  moorings,  casting  them 
upon  the  rocks,  and  staving  in  many  of  the  boats  and 
rafts.     The  people  of  Quebec,  who  for  weeks  had  been 
urging  upon  the  Divinity  in  their  peculiar  way  that 
they  His  chosen  people  were  in  danger,  would  not 
have   been  Canadian  Catholics  of  their  generation 
had  they  not  been  jubilant, at  this  undoubted  sign 
of  Divine  intervention.     But  Montcalm  was  the  last 
man  to  presume  on  such   favour  by  any  lack  of 
energy.      The  very  next  night,  the  British  having 
in  the  meantime  pitched  their  camp  upon  the  isle  of 
Orleans,  they  were  thrown  into  no  small  alarm  by 
the  descent  of  a  fleet  of  fire  ships.     The  only  men 
awake  were  the  guards  and  sentries  at  the  point, 
and  as  the  matches  were  not  applied  to  the  drift- 
ing hulks  till  they  were  close  at  hand,  the  sudden 
effect  in  the  darkness  of  the  night  upon  the  soldiers* 
nerves  was  more  than  they  could  stand,  having  be- 

299 


nri 

•^li 

■'i  * 

"  ff 

\  M 

]    f 

% 

'111 

if'  ^ 

vm 

k\ 

m 

\\\ 

m 

fS 

, 

Li 

1  \ 

In 

') 

\ '. 

V- 

1 

i'-  i 

j 

':    ; 

m 

rail 

i3l> 

; 

1 

f 

1 

,1  m 

^iff 

■;;^ 

i;L 

it*' 


3^ 


FIRE-SHIPS 


[1759 


jfi  ' 


\S  K 


f   I 


held  nothing  like  it  in  their  lives,  and  they  rushed  in 
much  confusion  on  the  sleeping  camp,  causing  still 
more  there.  For  it  was  not  alone  the  flames  and 
the  explosives  that  were  a  cause  of  perturbation, 
but  a  hail  of  grape-shot  and  bullets  from  the  igniting 
guns  poured  hurtling  through  the  trees.  The  chief 
object  of  the  fire-ships,  however,  was,  the  fleet  which 
lay  in  the  channel  between  the  isle  of  Orleans  and 
the  shore,  and  towards  it  they  came  steadily  drift- 
ing. Knox  describes  the  pandemonium  as  awful,  and 
the  sight  as  inconceivably  superb  of  these  large 
burning  ships,  crammed  with  every  imaginable  ex- 
plosive and  soaked  from  their  mastheads  to  their 
waterline  in  pitch  and  tar.  It  was  no  new  thing, 
however,  to  the  gallant  sailors,  who  treated  the 
matter  as  a  joke,  grappling  fearlessly  with  the  hissing, 
spitting  demons,  and  towing  them  ashore.  "  Damme, 
Jack,"  they  shouted,  "didst  ever  take  h — 11  in  tow 
before?" 

This  exploit  seems  to  have  been  a  venture  of  Vau- 
dreuil's,  and  its  failure,  an  extremely  expensive  one, 
cost  that  lively  egotist  and  his  friends  a  severe  pang. 
The  next  day  Wolfe  published  his  first  manifesto  to 
the  Canadian  people.  "  We  are  sent  by  the  English 
king,"  it  ran,  "to  conquer  this  province,  but  not  to 
make  war  upon  women  and  children,  the  ministers 
of  religion,  or  industrious  peasants.  We  lament  the 
sufferings  which  our  invasion  may  inflict  upon  you ; 
but  if  you  remain  neutral,  we  proffer  you  safety  in 
person  and  property  and  freedom  in  religion.  We 
are  masters  of  the  river ;  no  succour  can  reach  you 
from  France.  General  Amherst,  with  a  large  army, 
assails  your  southern  frontier.  Your  cause  is  hope- 
less, your  valour  useless.     Your  nation  have  been 

300 


[1759 

iished  in 
ing  still 
nes  and 
rbation, 
igniting 
he  chief 
}t  which 
ana  and 
\y  drif  t- 
^1,  and 
le  large 
Ekble  ex- 
to  their 
V  thing, 
ted  the 
I  hissing, 
Danune, 
in  tow 

of  Vau- 
live  one, 
■e  pang, 
if esto  to 
English 
)  not  to 
linisters 
lent  the 
on  you; 
af ety  in 
>n.  We 
ach  you 
;e  army, 
is  hope- 
ve  been 


1759]  OCCUPATION  OF  POINT  LEVIS 

guilty  of  great  cruelties  to  our  unprotected  settlers 
but  we  seek  not  revenge.     We  offer  you  the  sweets 
of  peace  amid  the  horrors  of  war.     England,  in  her 
strength,  will  befriend  you ;  France,  in  her  weakness, 
leaves  you  to  your  fate." 

Wolfe  could  hardly  have  felt  the  confidence  he  hero 
expressed.  The  longer  he  looked  upon  the  French 
position,  the  less  he  must  have  liked  it,  and  the  larger 
must  Amherst  and  his  eventual  co-operation  have 
loomed  in  his  mind  as  a  necessary  factor  to  success. 
But  would  Amherst  get  through  to  Montreal  and 
down  the  St.  Lawrence  in  time  to  be  of  use  before  the 
short  season  had  fled  ?  Those  who  were  familiar  with 
the  difficulties  would  certainly  have  discouraged  the 
hope  which  Wolfe  for  a  time  allowed  himself  to 
cherish;  and  Wolfe,  though  he  admired  his  friend 
and  chief,  did  not  regard  celerity  of  movement  as 
his  strongest  point. 

About  the  first  move,  however,  in  the  game  Wolfe 
had  to  play,  there  could  be  no  possible  doubt,  and  that 
was  the  occupation  of  Point  L^vis.  This  was  the  high 
ground  immediately  facing  Quebec,  where  the  river, 
narrowing  to  a  width  of  1,200  yards,  brought  the 
city  within  cannon-shot  from  the  southern  bank.  It 
was  the  only  place,  in  fact,  from  which  it  could  be 
reached.  It  is  said  Montcalm  had  been  anxious  to 
occupy  it,  and  intrench  it  with  4,000  men,  but  was 
overruled  on  the  supposition  that  the  upper  town, 
about  which  official  Quebec  felt  most  concern,  would 
be  outside  its  range  of  fire.  If  this  was  so,  they  were 
soon  to  be  undeceived. 

The  occupation  of  Point  L^vis  by  Monckton's  bri- 
gade, which  Wolfe  now  ordered  on  that  service,  need 
not  detain  us.   They  crossed  from  the  camp  of  Orleans 

301 


H 


I, 


!  '  '1 


'ii; 


Ml; 


\ 


fi 


A  FUTILE  SORTIE 


[1759 


*:  ;  •.  '. 


to  the  village  of  Boaumont,  which  was  seized  with 
slight  resistance.  Thence  moving  on  along  the  high 
road  to  Point  L^vis,  they  found  the  church  and 
village  occupied  by  what  Knox,  who  was  there,  esti- 
mates at  a  thousand  riflemen  and  Indians.  The 
Grenadiers  charging  the  position  in  front,  and  the 
Highlanders  and  light  infantry  taking  it  in  the  rear,  it 
was  stormed  with  a  loss  of  thirty  men,  and  Monckton 
then  occupied  a  position  which,  so  far  as  artillery 
fire  was  concerned,  had  Quebec  at  its  mercy.  The 
brigadier,  who  had  fully  expected  to  find  French 
guns  there,  at  once  began  to  intrench  himself  on  this 
conspicuous  spot,  while  floating  batteries  now  pushed 
out  from  Quebec  and  began  throwing  shot  and  shell 
up  at  his  working  parties,  till  Saunders  sent  a  frigate 
forward  to  put  an  end  to  what  threatened  to  be  a 
serious  annoyance. 

The  French  had  changed  their  minds  about  the 
danger  of  Monckton's  guns,  though  not  a  shot  had 
yet  been  fired,  and  agitated  loudly  for  a  sortie  across 
the  river.  Montcalm  thought  poorly  of  the  plan ;  but 
a  miscellaneous  force  of  1,500  Canadians,  possessed  of 
more  ardour  than  cohesion,  insisted  on  attempting  a 
night  assault.  They  landed  some  way  up  the  river, 
but  did  not  so  much  as  reach  the  British  position.  The 
difficulties  of  a  combined  midnight  movement  were 
altogether  too  great  for  such  irregulars,  and  they 
ended  by  firing  upon  one  another  in  the  dark  and 
stampeding  for  their  boats,  with  a  loss  of  seventy 
killed  and  wounded. 

Two  brigades  were  now  in  mid-stream  on  the  Isle 
of  Orleans,  and  one  on  Point  L^vis.  Landing  artil- 
lery and  stores,  intrenching  both  positions,  and  mount- 
ing siege  guns  at  the  last-named  one,  consumed  the 

302 


Li 


1759]    BOMBARDMENT  OF  QUEBEC 


first  few  days  of  July.  Wolfe's  skill  in  erecting  and 
firing  batteries  had  been  abundantly  demonstrated  at 
Louisbourg ;  and  though  his  headquarters  were  on  the 
island,  he  went  frequently  to  superintend  the  pre- 
parations for  the  bombardment  of  Quebec.  On  July 
12th  a  rocket  leapt  into  the  sky  from  Wolfe's  camp, 
it  was  the  signal  for  the  forty  guns  and  mortars 
that  had  been  mounted  on  Point  L^vis  to  open  on 
the  city  that  Vaudreuil  and  his  friends  had  fondly 
thought  was  out  of  range.  The  first  few  shots  may 
have  encouraged  the  delusion,  as  they  fell  short ;  but 
the  gunners  quickly  got  their  distance,  and  then  be- 
gan that  storm  of  shot  and  shell  which  rained  upon 
the  doomed  city,  with  scarce  a  respite,  for  upwards  of 
eight  weeics.  Wolfe's  New  England  rangers,  under 
Starke  and  other  well-known  dare-devils,  trained  by 
Rogers  in  the  Lake  George  region,  scoured  the  sur- 
roundmg  country,  fighting  Indians  or  stray  parties 
of  Canadians  like  themselves,  capturing  arms  and 
stores,  seizing  prisoners  for  information,  and  posting 
up  Wolfe's  proclamations  on  the  neighbouring  church 
doors.  These  last  assured  every  peasant  who  re- 
mained at  home  of  good  treatment;  while  a:iy  in- 
juries to  women  or  children  by  his  own  men  Wolfe 
swore  he  would  punish  by  death.  He  was  in  an 
enemy's  country ;  he  had  double  his  own  number  of 
armed  men  before  him,  and  a  hostile  population  on 
his  rear  and  fianks,  and  could  do  no  more. 

The  day  before  the  batteries  of  Point  L^vis  opened 
on  the  city  Wolfe  made  another  move.  The  eastern 
extremity  of  the  Beauport  lines  pressed  close  upon  the 
Montmorency  gorge.  If  he  could  establish  batteries 
upon  the  other  bank,  it  would  be  easy  not  only  to 
annoy  the  enemy  but  to  investigate  the  course  of  the 

303 


M 
if 


•I   'J. 


if. 


: 


li'ii 


TLB  CAMP  AT  MONTMORENCY  [1759 


^:  III 


■  I  ,i 


'  ^i 


stream  above  the  cataract,  and  see  if  perchance  there 
might  not  be  some  way  round  to  the  back  of  the  Beau- 
port  lines.  He  ordered  Monckton,  therefore,  to  make 
a  feint  up  the  river  above  the  town,  as  if  intending 
some  mischief  in  that  direction,  while  he  himself 
brought  several  frigates  up  to  the  front  of  the  Mont- 
morency end  of  the  Beauport  lines,  which  kept  L^vis 
and  his  militia  brigade  there  stationed  sufficiently 
occupied,  if  not  seriously  damaged.  Under  cover  of 
these  distractions  he  moved  3,000  men  across  to  the 
mouth  of  the  Montmorency.  Landing  on  the  eastern 
side,  his  men  clambered  up  the  wooded  heights  in 
the  face  of  some  desultory  resistance.  They  were 
now  upon  the  same  ridge  as  Montcalm's  army,  whose 
extreme  left  was  but  a  musket-shot  from  them.  But 
between  the  combatants  was  the  mighty  gorge  down 
which  the  Montmorency  plunged  250  feet  on  to  the 
flats  below.  Here  Wolfe  at  once  began  to  erect  an 
intrenched  camp  and  batteries.  Parties  were  sent  up 
the  wooded  valley  of  the  impetuous  little  river  to  clear 
it  of  enemies,  to  cut  timber  for  fascines,  and  to  hunt 
for  a  ford.  They  found  no  ford,  but  encountered  400 
Indians,  whom  they  finally  repulsed,  though  not 
without  loss.  Wolfe  was  somewhat  higher  than  the 
French  left,  and  could  now  bombard  it  with  consider- 
able effect.  But  this  was  of  little  use,  as  the  position 
was  apparently  impregnable  to  attack,  and  there 
seemed  no  way  round  it ;  for  the  only  ford  they  did 
eventually  find  was  three  miles  up,  and  that  faced  a 
steep  cliff  and  war  strongly  fortified.  The  French 
lines,  too,  were  only  vulnerable  in  their  rear,  when 
compared  to  the  inaccessible  front  with  which  Nature 
had  provided  them.  Upon  their  left  they  were  pro- 
tected by  a  mass  of  woods,  while  along  th&m  ran  a 

304 


[1759 

>e  there 
e  Beau- 
o  make 
tending 
himself 
e  Mont- 
pt  L^vis 
ficiently 
cover  of 
38  to  the 
)  eastern 
lights  in 
ey  were 
y,  whose 
im.     But 
'ge  down 
jn  to  the 
erect  an 
a  sent  up 
r  to  clear 
to  hunt 
tered  400 
ugh   not 
than  the 
consider- 
)  position 
tid  there 
they  did 
t  faced  a 
French 
lar,  when 
1  Nature 
vere  pro- 
iOi  ran  a 


1759]  DESTRUCTION  OF  BUILDINGS 

continuous  line  of  stone  farmhouses  and  other  build- 
ings and  enclosures,  which,  Knox  tells  us,  were  all 
prepared  for  holding  garrisons.  Even  if  Wolfe  cvould 
have  brought  5,000  men  round  the  upper  waters  of 
the  Montmorency  and  through  the  big  woods,  for  the 
delivery  of  a  rear  attack,  what  a  loss  and  what  a 
fearful  risk  would  have  attended  such  an  enterprise ! 
Canadian  militia — and,  be  it  remembered,  there  were 
over  3,000  veteran  regulars  here  as  well — were  not 
very  formidable  in  the  open,  but  behind  cover  they 
were  as  good  as  grenadiers,  and,  loose  in  the  woods, 
a  great  deal  better.  L^vis,  who  had  command  of  the 
position,  which  was  now  engaged  in  an  artillery  duel 
and  some  outpost  skirmishing  with  the  British,  was 
anxious  to  attack.  Montcalm,  whose  only  fear  was 
Amherst,  would  not  hear  of  it.  "  If  we  move  them," 
he  said,  "they  will  be  more  mischievous  elsewhere. 
Let  them  stay  there  and  amuse  themselves." 

The  rain  of  shot  and  shell  continued  to  pour  upon 
Quebec.  Houses,  churches,  and  monasteries,  crashed 
and  crumbled  beneath  the  pitiless  discharge.  The 
great  cathedral,  where  the  memories  and  the  trophies 
of  a  century's  defiance  of  the  accursed  heretic  had  so 
thickly  gathered,  was  gradually  reduced  to  a  skeleton 
of  charred  walls.  The  church  of  Notre  Dame  de  la 
Victoire,  erected  in  gratitude  for  the  delivery  of  the 
city  from  the  last  and  only  previous  attack  upon  it 
sixty  years  before,  was  one  of  the  first  buildings  to 
suffer  from  the  far  more  serious  punishment  of  this 
one.  Wolfe,  though  already  suffering  from  more 
than  his  chronic  ill-health,  was  ubiquitous  and  inde- 
fatigable ;  now  behind  Monckton's  guns  at  Point  L^vis, 
now  with  Townshend's  batteries  at  Montmorency,  now 
up  the  river,  ranging  with  his  glass  those  miles  of 

305  X 


lit 


^ 


I 
Mi 


m 


SHIPS  PASS  THE  BATTERIES    [1759 


i    ii 


:f  } 


forbidding  cliffs  which  he  may  ah-eady  have  begun 
to  think  he  should  one  day  have  to  climb.  Some  of 
Saunders'  ships  were  in  the  Basin,  between  Orleans 
and  Quebec,  and  frequently  engaged  with  Montcalm's 
floating  batteries ;  while  in  the  meantime,  the  roar  of 
artillery  from  a  dozen  different  quarters  filled  the 
simmering  July  days,  and  lit  the  short  summer  nights 
with  fiery  shapes,  and  drew  in  fitful  fioods  the  roving 
thunder  clouds  that  at  this  season  of  the  year  in 
North  America  are  apt  to  lurk  behind  the  serenest 
sky. 

Fighting  at  close  quarters  there  was,  too,  in  plenty, 
though  of  an  outpost  and  backwoods  kind,  Bois 
Herbert,  with  his  painted  Canadians  and  Abernakis 
Indians,  and  Stark  and  young  Rogers  with  their 
colonial  rangers — Greek  against  Greek — scalped  each 
other  with  an  hereditary  ferocity  that  English  and 
French  regulars  knew  nothing  of.  In  bringing  a 
fleet  up  to  Quebec,  British  sailors  had  already  per- 
formed one  feat  pronounced  impossible  by  Canadian 
tradition.  They  now  still  further  upset  their  enemies' 
calculations  by  running  the  gauntlet  of  the  batteries 
of  Quebec  and  placing  the  Sutherland,  with  several 
smaller  ships,  at  some  distance  up  the  river.  This 
cost  Montcalm  600  men,  whom  he  had  to  send  under 
Dumas  to  watch  the  squadron.  But  all  this  brought 
the  end  no  nearer.  Time  was  exceeding  precious, 
and  July  was  almost  out.  Necessary  messages  were 
continually  passing  under  flags  of  truce,  and  super- 
fluous notes  of  defiance  sometimes  accompanied  them. 
•*  You  may  destroy  the  town,"  said  De  Ramezay  to 
Wolfe,  "but  you  will  never  get  inside  it."  "I  will 
take  Quebec,"  replied  the  fiery  stripling,  "if  I  stay 
here  till  November." 

306 


1759]       MONTCALM   IMMOVEABLE 

Wolfe,  however,  was  chafing  sorely  under  a  sense 
of  impotence.^  Montcalm  would  not  stir.  Why  should 
he  ?  And  there  seemed  no  single  point  at  which  he 
was  even  reasonably  vulnerable  to  a  far  inferior 
force.  Only  one  man  in  the  army  knew  the  enemy's 
ground,  and  that  was  Stobo,  who  was  Washington's 
brother  officer  in  the  very  first  blow  struck  in  this 
war,  at  Fort  Necessity  in  1754.  He  had  been  left  at 
Fort  Duquesne,  it  may  be  remembered,  as  a  hostage 
on  that  occasion,  whence  he  was  forwarded  to  Quebec. 
A  plan  of  Duquesne,  drawn  by  him,  however,  had 
been  found  in  Braddock's  baggage,  and  he  was  sen- 
tenced to  death,  but  managed  to  escape,  and  was 
now  at  Wolfe's  side  with  a  local  knowledge  that  must 
have  been  acceptable. 

Wolfe  had  now  decided  that  some  forward  action 
was  necessary,  and  he  proceeded  to  select  what 
seemed  to  him  the  only  spot  that  offered  the  barest 
justification  for  the  risk. 

This  was  close  to  the  Montmorency  end  of  the 
Beauport  lines,  and  July  31st  was  the  date  fixed  for 
the  enterprise,  into  which  he  purposed  to  bring  four 
thousand  men.  Now  in  the  short  space  between  the 
foot  of  the  falls  and  the  St.  Lawrence,  the  Montmor- 
ency was  fordable  at  low  tide,  and  Townshend,  with 
2,000  men  from  the  British  camp  was  to  ford  it  here, 
and  advance  along  the  shore.  Wolfe,  with  an  equal 
number  from  Monckton's  brigade  at  Point  L4vis  and 
the  Isle  of  Orleans,  was,  at  the  same  time,  to  approach 
in  flat-bottomed  boats  over  the  shallows  and  land 
upon  the  narrow  flats  beneath  the  high  embattled 

*  He  was  short  of  money  too ;  and,  in  a  former  despatch  to  his 
Government,  had  somewhat  quaintly  remarked  "  this  is,  perhapB, 
the  first  siege  that  has  been  undertaken  without  it." 

307 


fi 


i 


i;  Ui 


III 

¥ 


'  Mlf  ^ 


1 1; 


iftil 


m 


IN 


I' 


f 


m 


'< 


>   f 


''I  h^ 


'I 


I. 


,t  ^i 


''■ 


I) 


ATTACK  ON  THE  BEAUPORT  LINES 

ridge  which  overiooked  them.  A  frigate  was  brought 
up  to  make  play  on  the  French  lines,  and  all  the 
batteries  of  the  Montmorency  camp  were  to  help 
sustain  the  attack,  while  a  "  cat,"  a  kind  of  sailing 
raft,  armed  with  several  guns,  was  to  be  imbedded  on 
the  muddy  shore. 

At  about  ten  in  the  morning  the  movement  began 
from  Point  L^vis  to  the  Isle  of  Orleans,  and  de  L^vis 
and  Montcalm  from  their  high  perch  on  the  French 
redoubts  had  a  clear  view  of  everything  that  passed. 
They  were  puzzled  what  to  make  of  it,  and  thinking 
a  rear  attack  by  the  upper  reaches  of  the  Montmor- 
ency might  be  intended,  sent  500  men  to  watch  the 
ford.  As  the  day  went  on,  it  became  evident  to  L^vis 
that  his  own  intrenchments  were  at  one  point  or 
another  the  object  of  attack ;  but  concentration  for 
the  French  at  any  point  on  the  Beauport  lines  was  an 
easy  matter.  Wolfe  had  to  await  the  ebbing  tide  for 
Townshend's  corps  to  ford  the  mouth  of  the  Mont- 
morency, during  which  his  own  men  were  concen- 
trated on  the  Point  of  Orleans.  In  the  afternoon  the 
Centurion  frigate,  the  armed  "  cat,"  and  the  batteries 
across  the  falls  opened  on  the  French  ridges.  As 
the  day  waned  Wolfe  and  his  small  force  pushed 
out  and  rowed  towards  the  flats,  while  Townshend 
awaited  at  the  ford  the  signal  to  advance.  The  gen- 
eral, always  in  the  front,  soon  came  within  the  range 
of  the  French  batteries,  which  opened  with  a  brisk 
fire.  He  was  three  times  struck  by  splinters,  and  his 
cane  was  knocked  from  his  hand  by  a  round  shot. 
Worse  still,  the  water  at  this  point  proved  too 
shallow,  and  some  of  the  boats  ran  upon  ledges  of 
rock  or  mud.  A  deeper  passage,  however,  was  quickly 
found,  and  the  leading  files,  Grenadiers  and  Royal 

308 


fES 

irought 
all  the 
bo  help 
sailing 
ided  on 

t  began 
[e  L6vis 
French 
;  passed, 
bhinking 
iontmor- 
atch  the 
to  L^vis 
point  or 
ation  for 
as  was  an 
5  tide  for 
be  Mont- 
)  concen- 
moon  the 
batteries 
ges.     As 
e  pushed 
jwnshend 
The  gen- 
the  range 
h  a  brisk 
•s,  and  his 
lund  shot, 
roved  too 
ledges  of 
as  quickly 
ind  Royal 


MADNESS  OF  THE  GRENADIERS 

Americans,  were,  in  due  course,  landed  on  the  wet 
sand.  A  musket-shot  in  front,  where  dry  ground  and 
tide  limit  touched,  was  an  outlying  redoubt,  which 
was  at  once  rushed  and  cleared  without  difficulty. 
Now,  however,  comes  the  moment  when  Wolfe's  plan 
of  action  would  have  developed.  This  has  never  yet 
been  quite  clear,  in  spite  of  his  own  despatches,  but 
what  immediately  happened  was  of  all  things  the 
least  expected. 

Beyond  the  captured  redoubt  were  about  200  yards 
of  flat  ground,  behind  which  abruptly  rose  the  high 
ridge,  where  the  French  army  lay  intrenched.  Wolfe 
may  have  intended  a  mere  reconnaissance  in  force 
over  the  Flat,  though  he  told  Pitt  he  hoped  to  tempt 
the  French  down  on  to  it.  Townshend  was  nearing 
him,  having  just  crossed  the  ford,  while  Monckton 
was  in  the  very  act  of  landing  with  a  thousand  men. 
Somewhat  less  than  that  number  stood  round  Wolfe 
at  the  captured  redoubt.  But  even  with  this  respect- 
able force,  it  seems  incredible  that  he  would  have 
faced  that  steep  hill,  which  by  this  time  was  lined  by 
a  great  part  of  the  French  army.  What  was  passing 
in  that  nimble  mind  just  then,  or  what  Wolfe  would 
have  done, — and  he  was  not  a  man,  with  all  his 
ardour,  to  throw  his  men's  lives  away, — no  one  will 
ever  know.  The  Grenadiers  and  Royal  Americans, 
under  a  thousand  men  in  aU,  saved  him  the  trouble 
of  deciding.  Seized  with  a  sudden  and  unaccountable 
insanity,  these  veteran  soldiers,  without  orders  and 
without  formation,  without  waiting  for  their  com- 
panions, and  in  utter  disregard  of  the  invectives  of 
their  officers,  who  had  nothing  for  it  but  to  go  with 
them,  rushed  with  a  wild  shout  upon  the  fatal  slope. 
Slippery  with  recent  rains,  its  summits  bristling  with 

309 


*       t-^  — • 


^  '^     -■%•-*'■♦ 


FAILURE 


[1759 


f^'       I : 


cannon  and  packed  with  3,000  riflemen,  half  of  whom 
were  regulars,  with  other  10,000  men  at  ready  call ; 
never,  surely,  was  there  so  pitiable  a  piece  of  mad- 
ness. But  it  was  long,  too  long,  ere  the  hail  of  lead 
that  swept  down  that  steep  and  slippery  slope  up 
which  these  insubordinate  heroes  vainly  and  wildly 
struggled,  could  stop  them.  Black  clouds  had  been 
gathering  over  head.  A  thunderstorm  was  mutely 
raging  beneath  the  roar  of  over  a  hundred  cannon 
and  the  din  of  countless  rifles,  and  now  at  the  most 
dramatic  moment  down  fell  the  rain  in  sheets  so  fast 
and  thick  as  to  hide  the  combatants  from  each  other, 
and  eff ectua-Uy  quench  both  their  ardour  and  their  fire. 
To  support  such  an  escapade  would  have  been  mad- 
ness, and  the  survivors  soon  enough  came  straggling 
back  through  the  storm,  which  quickly  cleared  and 
showed  a  streaming  hillside  covered  with  British 
dead  and  wounded.  The  78th  Highlanders  were  in- 
stantly sent  forward  to  bring  off  the  latter,  already 
in  imminent  danger  from  Indian  scalping-knives. 
Either  from  damp  powder  or  a  worthier  cause  the 
effort  was  allowed  to  pass  with  impunity,  and  the 
British  retired  despondently,  some  by  land  and  some 
by  water,  bearing  the  wounded  with  them  to  their 
several  camps.  The  mad  and  brief  exploit,  for  which 
no  officer  high  or  low  was  responsible,  cost  Wolfe 
443  men,  including  33  officers.  There  we  will  leave 
it  as  one  of  the  most  unaccountable  incidents  in  our 
military  history,  for  the  Grenadiers  were  picked  men 
from  three  regiments  at  Louisbourg.  Wolfe,  with 
his  usual  consideration,  went  out  of  his  way  to  show 
their  officers  that  he  wholly  exonerated  them  from 
blame.  In  his  orders  the  next  morning,  however, 
he  soundly  rated  the  men  themselves  for  their  "  im- 

310 


1769] 


DESPONDENCY 


petuous,  irregular,  and  unsoldierlike  proceeding,"  re- 
minding them  of  the  difficulty  in  which  they  had  placed 
their  comrades,  and  ironically  asking  if  they  supposed 
that  they  alone  could  beat  the  whole  French  army. 
He  also  wrote  a  despatch  to  Pitt,  which  remains  as 
notable  for  the  abilities  it  displays  as  for  the  dis- 
appointment it  caused  at  the  time. 

Through  the  whole  weary  month  of  August  little 
occurred  that  the  exigencies  of  our  space  would 
justify  recording.  Montcalm,  after  the  late  affair, 
considered  himself  safe,  and  he  even  allowed  two 
thousand  Canadians  to  leave  for  the  harvest.  Wolfe 
had  a  thousand  men  of  his  small  force  sick  or  woun- 
ded in  hospital.  Amherst,  it  was  reported,  had  taken 
Ticonderoga,  but  there  was  little  likelihood  of  his 
getting  through  to  their  assistance.  Prideaux,  in  the 
far  West,  as  it  then  was,  had  captured  Niagara.  It 
was  a  great  success,  but  it  in  no  way  helped  Wolfe. 
In  an  army  distinguished  for  its  spirit  the  conviction 
was  growing  that  the  task  set  it  was  impossible. 
Montcalm  would  not  stir  out  of  his  defences.  "  The 
old  fox,"  writes  Wolfe  to  his  mother,  "has  a  large 
army  of  bad  troops,  while  I  have  a  small  army  of 
good  ones."  But  three  parts  of  Montcalm's  large 
army,  like  that  of  the  Boers,  were  habitual  riflemen, 
formidable  behind  cover,  though  comparatively  use- 
less in  the  open.  People  in  England,  too,  who  knew 
about  as  much  of  Quebec  as  of  the  mountains  in  the 
moon,  had  begun  to  grumble  and  to  misdoubt  this 
young  general  of  Pitt's.  Though  the  coffee-houses 
could  not  show  him  the  right  road  to  glory,  as  their 
equivalents  are  apt  to  show  his  successors  at  the 
present  day,  for  they  had  not  the  printed  materials 
necessary  for  such  a  campaign.     Worry,  anxiety,  and 

311 


Mi! 


i'l 


h 


; 


! 


If 


''r' 


"f 


tlfj 


WOLFE  ILL 


[1759 


tA 


hard  work,  too,  had  long  been  telling  on  Wolfe's 
feeble  frame.  "  Don't  talk  to  me  of  constitution,"  he 
had  said,  referring  to  a  brother  officer's  case ;  "  spirit 
will  carry  a  man  through  anything."  But  human 
endurance  has  its  limits,  and  on  the  20th  of  August 
it  was  known  through  the  army  that  the  general, 
who  had  made  himself  the  object  of  its  entire  devo- 
tion, could  not  rise  from  his  bed.  For  nearly  a  week 
"Wolfe  lay  prostrated  with  fever,  and  tortured  with  a 
despair  that  under  the  circumstances  was  inevitable 
to  his  physical  prostration.  The  four  walls  of  his 
sick-chamber  in  the  farmhouse  at  Montmorency  may 
well  have  typified  to  his  fevered  fancy  the  inacces- 
sible barriers  which  upon  every  side  in  the  larger 
arena  without  doors  checked  his  advance  to  victory. 
He  regarded  himself,  we  know,  as  a  ruined  man,  and 
had  dread  visions  of  his  return  to  England,  another 
unsuccessful  general  to  be  pelted  by  a  public  opinion 
which  in  truth,  as  regards  military  matters,  he  held 
in  infinite  scorn.  On  the  25th,  however,  "  to  the  in- 
conceivable joy,"  says  honest  Knox,  "of  the  whole 
army,"  its  beloved  commander  was  reported  out  of 
danger,  and  he  at  once  set  his  busy  mind  to  work  and 
called  his  brigadiers  in  council  to  see  if  anything  could 
be  done  to  utilize  the  short  season  that  remained. 
When,  on  the  1st  of  September,  Wolfe  rose  from  his 
sick-bed,  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  attempt  the 
enterprise  which  cost  him  his  frail  life  and  gave 
immortality  to  himself,  and  a  great  colony  to  Eng- 
land. 

It  must  not  be  supposed,  however,  that  August 
had  passed  away  in  humdrum  fashion.  The  guns 
had  roared  with  tireless  throats,  and  the  lower  town 
was  a  heap  of  ruins.     Far  away  down  both  banks  of 

312 


I    .* 


1759] 


DESULTORY  FIGHTING 


the  St.  Lawrence,  the  drga  of  war  had  raged  through 
seigneuries  and  hamlets.      Between  the  upper  and 
the  nether  millstone  of  "Wolfe's   proclamations   and 
Montcalm's  vengeance,  the  wretched  peasantry  were 
in  a  sore  plight.     Raided  through  and  through  by 
the  fierce  guerillas  of  North  American  warfare,  swept 
bare   of    grain    and    cattle    for    "Wolfe's   army,   the 
fugitives  from  smoking  farms  and  hamlets  were  glad 
to  seek  refuge  in  the  English  lines,  where  the  soldiers 
generously  shared  with  them  their  meagre  rations. 
More  than  one  expedition  had  been  sent  up  the  river. 
Admiral  Holmes,  with  over  twenty  ships,  was  already 
above  the  town,  and  had  driven  the  French  vessels, 
which  had  originally  taken  refuge  there,  to  discharge 
their  crews  and  run  up  shallow  tributaries.     Murray, 
with  twelve  hundred  men,  had  been  carried  up  as 
far  as  Deschambault,  and  had  there  done  some  suc- 
cessful  but  unprofitable  fighting.      The   shore  was 
strongly  fortified  at  every  accessible  point.     Mont- 
calm depended  wholly  on  that  side  for  his  supplies, 
for  the  lower  country  was  entirely  closed  to  him  by 
the  British.      He  lost  L^vis,  too,  at  this  time,  and 
1,500  men,  who,  owing  to   Prideaux's   victory   and 
Amherst's  steady  advance,  were  required  at  Montreal. 
Another  1,500  men  he  had  despatched  under  Bou- 
gainville to  Cap  Rouge,  where  the  seven  miles  of 
cliflf  which  made  the  north   shore  west  of  Quebec 
impregnable,  ceased ;  and  here  that  able  officer  in- 
trenched himself  at  the  mouth  of  a  small  stream. 

Wolfe's  intention  now  was  to  place  every  man  that 
he  could  spare  on  board  the  ships  in  the  upper  river, 
and  his  entire  force  was  reduced  by  death,  wounds, 
and  sickness  to  under  7,000  men.  On  September  3rd, 
with  slight  annoyance  from  an  ill-directed  cannon 

313 


K 


,: 


'M 


*» ...«  ^. 


iffj . 


WOLFE  AGAIN  ILL 


[1759 


II . 


fire,  he  removed  the  whole  force  at  Montmorency 
across  the  water  to  the  camps  of  Orleans  or  Point 
L^vis.  On  the  following  day  all  the  troops  at  both 
these  stations  which  were  not  necessary  for  their 
protection  were  paraded ;  for  what  purpose  no  one 
knew,  least  of  all  the  French,  who  from  their  lofty 
lines  could  mark  every  movement  in  the  wide 
panorama  below,  and  were  sorely  puzzled  and  per- 
turbed. Some  great  endeavour  was  in  the  wind,  be- 
yond a  doubt ;  but  both  Wolfe  and  his  faithful  ally, 
the  admiral,  did  their  utmost  to  disguise  its  import. 
And  for  this  very  reason  it  would  be  futile,  even  if 
necessary,  to  follow  the  fluctuating  manoeuvres  that 
for  the  next  few  days  kept  the  enemy  in  constant 
agitation :  the  sudden  rage  of  batteries  here,  the 
threatening  demonstrations  of  troop-laden  boats 
there,  the  constant  and  bewildering  movement  of 
armed  ships  at  every  point.  It  was  well  designed 
and  industriously  maintained,  for  the  sole  pur- 
pose of  harassing  the  French  and  covering  Wolfe's 
real  intention.  On  the  night  of  September  4th 
the  general  was  well  enough  to  dine  with  Mouckton's 
officers  at  Point  L^vis,  but  the  next  day  he  was  again 
prostrate  with  illness,  to  the  great  anxiety  of  his 
army.  He  implored  the  doctor  to  "patch  him  up 
sufficiently  for  the  work  in  hand  ;  after  that  nothing 
mattered."  Chronic  gravel  and  rheumatism,  with  a 
sharp  low  fever,  aggravated  by  a  mental  strain  of  the 
severest  kind,  all  preying  on  a  sickly  frame,  were 
what  the  indomitable  spirit  therein  imprisoned  had 
to  wrestle  with.  On  the  6th,  however,  Wolfe 
struggled  up,  and  during  that  day  and  the  next 
superintended  the  march  of  his  picked  column,  nur^- 
bering  some  4,000  men,  up  the  south  bank  of 

314 


i   «. 


1759]  TROOPS  ASCEND  THE  RIVER 

river.  Fording,  near  waist-deep,  the  Etchemain 
river,  t  ley  were  received  beyond  its  mouth  by  the 
boats  of  the  fleet,  and  as  each  detachment  arrived 
conveyed  on  board.  The  48th,  however,  700  strong, 
were  left,  under  Colonel  Burton,  near  Point  L^vis  to 
await  orders. 

The  fleet,  with  Wolfe  and  some  3,600  men  on  board, 
now  moved  up  to  Cap  Rouge,  behind  which,  at  the 
first  dip  in  the  high  barrier  of  cliffs,  was  Bougainville 
with  1,500  men  (soon  afterwards  increased),  exclusive 
of  300  serviceable  light  cavalry.  The  cove  here  was 
intrenched,  and  the  French  commander  was  so  harried 
with  feigned  attacks  that  he  and  his  people  had  no 
rest.  At  the  same  time,  so  well  was  the  universal 
activity  maintained  that  Montcalm,  eight  miles  below, 
was  led  to  expect  a  general  attack  at  the  mouth  of 
the  Charles  river,  under  the  city.  Throughout  the 
8th  and  9th  the  weather  was  dark  and  rainy  and  the 
wind  from  the  east,  an  unfavourable  combination  for 
a  movement  requiring  the  utmost  precision.  On  the 
10th  the  troops  from  the  crowded  ships  were  landed 
to  dry  their  clothes  and  accoutrements.  Wolfe  and 
his  brigadiers  now  finally  surveyed  that  line  of  cliffs 
which  Montcalm  had  declared  a  hundred  men  could 
hold  against  the  whole  British  army.  It  was  de- 
fended here  and  there  by  small  posts.  Below  one  of 
these,  a  mile  and  a  half  above  the  city,  the  traces  of 
a  zigzag  path  up  the  bush-covered  precipice  could  be 
made  out,  though  Wolfe  could  not  see  that  even  this 
was  barricaded.  Here,  at  the  now  famous  Anse  du 
Foulon,  he  decided  to  make  his  attempt. 

The  ships,  however,  kept  drifting  up  and  down  be- 
tween Cap  Rouge  and  the  city,  with  a  view  to  main- 
taining the  suspense  of  the  French.     Each  morning 

315 


1 


I' 


I 


I 


\ 


\ 


•  ijil 


(       !   IS 


WOLFE  S  LAST  ORDERS 


[1759 


i^\ 


l\      I  >i 


Wolfe's  general  orders  to  the  soldiers  were  to  hold 
themselves  in  readiness  for  immediate  action,  with  as 
full  directions  for  their  conduct  as  was  compatible 
with  the  suppression  of  the  spot  at  which  they  were 
to  fight.  On  the  night  of  the  11th  the  troops  were 
reimbarked,  and  instructions  sent  to  Burton  to  post 
the  48th  on  the  south  shore  opposite  the  Anse  du 
Foulon.  On  the  following  day,  Wolfe  published  his 
last  orders,  and  they  contained  a  notable  sentence  : 
"  A  vigorous  blow  struck  by  the  army  at  this  junc- 
ture may  determine  the  fate  of  Canada."  Almost  at 
the  same  moment  his  gallant  opponent  from  his  head- 
quarters at  JBeauport  was  writing  to  Bourlamaque  at 
Montreal  that  he  gave  the  enemy  a  month  or  less  to 
stay,  but  that  he  himself  had  no  rest  night  or  day, 
and  had  not  had  his  boots  or  clothes  off  for  a  fort- 
night. Another  Frenchman  was  informing  his 
friends  that  what  they  kncv/  of  that  "impetu- 
ous, bold,  and  intrepid  warrior.  Monsieur  Wolfe," 
gave  them  reason  to  suppose  he  would  not  leave 
them  without  another  attack. 

A  suspicious  calm  brooded  over  the  British  squad- 
ron off  Cap  Rouge  as  Bougainville  watched  \t  from 
the  shore  throughout  the  whole  of  the  J4th.  The 
men  were  under  orders  to  drop  into  their  boats  at 
nine,  and  were  doubtless  busy  looking  to  their  arms 
and  accoutrements.  Wolfe  had  sent  for  his  old 
schoolfellow,  "  Jacky  "  Jervis,  afterwards  the  famous 
admiral,  who  was  commanding  a  sloop  in  the  river. 
It  was  a  matter  of  private  business,  and  as  the  two 
sat  together  in  the  cabin  of  the  Sutherland  the  general 
took  a  miniature  of  Miss  Lowther,^  his  fiancde,  from 

*  It  is  a  curiouE>  coincidence  that  the  heroines  of  both  Wolfe's 
love  aflfairs  should  have  come,  and  that  through  no  connection  with 

316 


[1759 

0  hold 
vith  as 
patible 
y  were 
>B  were 
bo  post 
nse  du 
hed  his 
itence : 
s  junc- 
most  at 
Is  head- 
aque  at 
*  less  to 
or  day, 

a  fort- 
ing  his 
impetu- 
Wolfe," 
it  leave 

1  sqiiad- 
:t  from 

h.     The 

)oats  at 

ir  arms 

his  old 

famous 

10  river. 

the  two 

general 

k,  from 


1759] 


SUSPENSE 


1 


Wolfe's 
tion  with 


around  his  neck,  and  remarking  that  he  did  not  ex- 
pect to  survive  the  battle  he  hoped  to  fight  upon  the 
foUowing  day,  requested  Jervis  in  such  case  to  de- 
liver the  portrait  to  the  lady,  who,  it  may  be  added 
became,  six  years  later,  the  last  Duchess  of  Bolton, 
and  lived  to  be  seventy-five. 

By  a  preconcerted  arrangement  the  day  was  spent 
after  a  very  different  fashion  in  the  baain  of  Quebec. 
Constant  artillery  fire  e;..d  the  continual  movement 
of  troops  against  various  parts  of  the  l^auport  lines 
engaged  the  whole  attention  of  Montcalm,  who  had, 
in  fact,  little  notion  what  a  number  of  men  had  gone 
up  the  river  with  Wolfe.  When  night  fell  upon  the 
ruined  city  and  the  flickering  camp  fires  of  the  long 
French  lines,  the  tumult  grew  louder  and  the  anxi- 
ety greater.  The  batteries  of  Point  L^vis  and  the 
guns  of  Saunders'  ships  redoubled  their  efforts.  Amid 
the  roar  of  the  fierce  artillery,  served  with  an  activity 
not  surpassed  during  the  whole  siege,  Montcalm, 
booted  and  spurred,  with  his  black  charger  saddled  at 
the  door,  awaited  some  night  attack.  The  horse  would 
be  wanted  yet,  but  for  a  longer  rf.de  than  his  master 
anticipated,  and,  as  it  so  turned  out,  for  his  last  one. 
Up  the  river  at  Cap  Rouge  all  was  silence,  a  strange 
contrast  to  the  din  below.     The  night  was  fine,  but 

each  other,  hut  quite  fatuitously,  from  the  same  group  of  families 
as  it  were,  in  a  remote  corner  of  England,  which  Wolfe  in  a  social 
sense  never  even  visited.  Isell  Hall,  whence  came  Miss  Law&on, 
is  still  a  residence  of  the  family.  A  beautiful  specimen  of  the 
border  Peel  tower  enlarged  during  the  Tudor  period  into  a  man- 
sion ;  romantically  situated  on  the  banks  of  the  Derwent  between 
Gockermouth  and  Bassenthwaite.  Meaburn  Hall,  Kate  Lowther'p 
early  home,  though  now  a  somewhat  inaccessible  farmhouse,  be- 
tween Shap  and  Appleby,  on  the  Lowther  estates,  remains  a  most 
interesting  and  picturesque  specimen,  both  inside  and  out,  of  the 
Tudor  manor  house  of  the  border  country. 

317 


ylii 


I 


I 


THE  MIDXIGHT  VOYAGE        [1759 


i. 


»!l 


dark,  and  was  some  three  hours  old  when  a  single 
light  gleamed  of  a  sudden  from  the  Sutherlands 
mainmast.  It  was  the  signal  for  1,600  men  to  drop 
quietly  into  their  boats.  A  long  interval  of  silence 
and  suspense  then  followed,  till  at  two  o'clock  the 
tide  began  to  ebb,  when  a  second  lantern  glimmered 
from  Wolfe's  ship.  The  boats  now  pushed  off  and 
drifted  quietly  down  in  long  procession  under  the 
deep  shadow  of  the  high  northern  shore. 

The  ships  followed  at  some  distance  with  the  re- 
mainder of  the  force  under  Townshend,  the  48th,  it 
will  be  remembered,  awaiting  them  below.  The  dis- 
tance to  be  traversed  was  six  miles,  and  there  were 
two  posts  on  the  cliffs  to  be  passed.  French  provision 
boats  had  been  in  the  habit  of  stealing  down  in  the 
night,  and  to  this  fact,  coupled  with  the  darkness,  it 
seems  Wolfe  trusted  much.  He  was  himself  in  one 
of  the  leading  boats,  and  the  story  of  his  reciting 
"  Gray's  Elegy,"  in  solemn  tones  while  he  drifted 
down,  as  he  hoped,  to  victory  and,  as  he  believed,  to 
death,  rests  on  good  authority.*  The  tide  was  run- 
ning fast,  so  that  the  rowers  could  ply  their  oars 
with  a  minimum  of  disturbance.  From  both  posts 
upon  the  cliff  their  presence  was  noticed,  and  the 
challenge  of  a  sentry  rang  out  clear  upon  the  silent 
night.  On  each  occasion  a  Highland  officer  who  spoke 
French  perfectly  replied  that  they  were  a  provision 
convoy,  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  challengers.  But 
the  risk  was  undeniable,  and  illustrates  the  hazardous 
nature  of  the  enterprise.  Wolfe's  friend.  Captain 
Howe,  brother  of  the  popular  young  nobleman  who 
fell  at  Ticonderoga,   with  a  small  body  of  picked 

'  Professor  Hobson  of  Edinburgh  University,  who  was  present 
as  a  midshipman. 

.318 


1759] 


ASCENT  OF  THE  CLIFF 


soldiers,  was  to  lead  the  ascent,  and  as  the  boats 
touched  the  narrow  beach  of  the  Anse  du  Foulon  he 
and  his  volunteers  leaped  rapidly  on  shore.  Some  of 
the  boats  accidentally  overran  the  spot,  but  it  made 
little  difference,  as  the  narrow  path  was,  in  any  case, 
found  to  be  blocked,  and  the  eager  soldiers  were 
forced  to  throw  themselves  upon  the  rough  face  of 
the  cliff,  which  was  here  over  200  feet  high,  but 
fortunately  sprinkled  thick  with  stunted  bushes. 
Swiftly  and  silently  Howe  and  his  men  scrambled  up 
its  steep  face.  No  less  eagerly  the  men  behind,  as 
boat  after  boat  discharged  its  load  of  redcoats  under 
Wolfe's  eye  on  the  narrow  shore,  followed  in  their 
precarious  steps.  Day  was  just  beginning  to  glim- 
mer as  the  leading  files  leaped  out  on  to  the  summit 
and  rushed  upon  the  handful  of  astonished  French- 
men before  them,  who  fired  a  futile  volley  and  fled. 
They  captured,  however,  the  officer  of  the  guard.  It 
was  De  Vergor,  who,  it  wiU  be  remembered,  made 
such  a  poor  defence  at  Beausejour,  in  Nova  Scotia, 
whither  Bigot  had  sent  him  to  improve  his  fortunes. 
He  was  really  in  bad  luck  this  time,  though  he  has 
been  made  a  scapegoat  of  by  French  writers.  An 
attack  at  such  a  point  may  well  have  seemed  im- 
probable. "The  difficulty  of  the  ascent,"  wrote 
Admiral  Saunders  to  the  Ministry,  "  was  scarcely 
credible."  The  single  narrow  path,  too,  the  only 
presumable  approach,  had  been  blocked ;  but  Wolfe's 
men  were  dragging  themselves  up  all  along  the  cliff, 
and  evon  if  De  Vergor's  small  guard  had  been  more 
wide  awake,  it  is  doubtful  if  they  could  have  stopped 
such  determined  men.  Bui;  the  shots  and  cries  had 
alarmed  other  posts  at  some  distance  off,  yet  near 
enough  to  fire  in  the  direction  of  the  landing  boats. 

319 


. 


' 


i; 


i  i } 


ON  THE  PLAINS  OF  ABRAHAM  [1759 


m'    i. 


rill 


It  was  too  late,  however ;  the  path  had  now  been 
cleared  of  obstacles,  and  the  British  were  swarming 
on  to  the  plateau.  The  first  sixteen  hundred  men 
had  been  rapidly  disembarked,  and  the  boats  were 
already  dashing  back  for  Townshend's  brigade,  who 
were  approaching  in  the  ships,  and  for  the  48th,  who 
awaited  them  on  the  opposite  shore. 

The  scattered  French  posts  along  the  summit  were 
easily  dispersed,  while  the  main  army  at  Beauport, 
some  miles  away,  on  the  far  side  of  the  city,  were 
as  yet  unconscious  of  danger.  Bougainville  and  his 
force  back  at  Cap  Rouge  were  as  far  off  and  as  yet 
no  wiser.  Quebec  had  just  caught  the  alarm,  but  its 
weak  and  heterogeneous  garrison  had  no  power  for 
combined  mobility.  By  six  o'clock  Wolfe  had  his 
whole  force  of  4,300  men  drawn  up  on  the  plateau, 
with  their  backs  to  the  river  and  their  faces  to  the 
north.  Leaving  the  Royal  Americans,  540  strong, 
to  guard  the  landing-place,  an«l  with  a  force  thus 
reduced  to  under  4,000,  he  now  marched  towards  the 
city,  bringing  his  left  round  at  the  same  time  in 
such  fashion  as  to  face  the  western  walls  scarcely 
a  mile  distant.  As  Wolfe  drew  up  his  line  of  battle 
on  that  historic  ridge  of  tableland  known  as  the 
Plains  of  Abraham,  his  right  rested  on  the  cliff 
above  the  river,  while  his  left  approached  the  then 
brushy  slope  which  led  down  towards  the  St.  Charles 
Valley.  He  had  outmanoeuvred  Montcalm ;  it  now 
remained  only  to  crush  h'm.  Of  this  Wolfe  had  not 
much  doubt,  though  such  confidence  may  seem 
sufficiently  audacious  for  the  leader  of  4,000  men, 
with  twice  that  number  in  front  of  him  and  half  as 
many  in  his  rear,  both  forces  commanded  by  brave 
and  skilful  generals.     But  Wolfe  counted  on  quality, 

320 


[1759 

been 
rming 
,  men 

were 
),  who 
1,  who 

b  were 
,uport, 
,  were 
nd  his 
as  yet 
but  its 
TOT  for 
Lad  his 
lateau, 
to  the 
strong, 
pe  thus 
rds  the 
ime  in 
carcely 
battle 
as  the 
le  cliff 
e  then 
Charles 
t  now 
ad  not 
seem 
men, 
alf  as 
brave 
uality. 


1759] 


MONTCALM'S  ACTION 


not  on  numbers,  which  Montcalm  himself  realized 
were  of  doubtful  efficacy  at  this  crucial  moment. 
The  French  general,  in  the  meantime,  had  been  ex- 
pecting an  attack  all  night  at  Beauport,  and  his  troops 
had  been  lying  on  their  arms.  It  was  about  six 
o'clock  when  the  astounding  news  was  brought  him 
that  the  British  were  on  the  plateau  behind  the  city. 
The  Scotch  Jacobite,  the  Chevalier  Johnstone,  who 
has  left  us  an  account  of  the  affair,  was  with  him  at 
the  time,  and  they  leaped  on  their  horses — he  to  give 
the  alarm  towards  Montmorency,  the  general  to  has- 
ten westwards  by  Vaudreuil's  quarters  to  the  city. 
"  This  is  a  serious  business,"  said  Montcalm  to  John- 
stone as  he  dug  his  spurs  into  his  horse's  flanks. 
Yaudreuil,  who  in  his  braggart,  amateur  fashion  had 
been  "  crushing  the  English  "  with  pen  and  ink  and 
verbal  eloquence  this  last  six  weeks,  now  collapsed, 
and  Montcalm,  who  knew  what  a  fight  in  the  open 
with  Wolfe  meant,  hastened  himself  to  hurry  for- 
ward every  man  that  could  be  spared.  Fifteen 
hundred  militia  were  left  to  guard  the  Beauport 
lines,  while  the  bulk  of  the  army  poured  in  a  steady 
stream  along  the  road  to  Quebec,  over  the  bridge  of 
the  St.  Charles,  some  up  the  slopes  beyond,  others 
through  the  tortuous  streets  of  the  city,  on  to  the 
Plains  of  Abraham.  Montcalm,  by  some  at  the  time, 
and  by  many  since,  has  been  blamed  for  precipitating 
the  conflict,  but  surely  not  with  justice !  He  had 
every  reason  to  count  on  Bougainville  and  his  2,300 
men,  who  were  no  further  from  Wolfe's  rear  than 
he  himself  was  from  the  English  front.  The  British 
held  the  entire  water.  Wolfe  once  entrenched  on  the 
plateau,  the  rest  of  his  army,  guns  and  stores  could 
be  brought  up  at  will,  and  the  city  defences  on  that 

321  Y 


1.1 


BOUGAINVILLE 


[1759 


l\ 


-I . 

i(;    a 

■     i 

I 

1 

1 

1 

} 

,1 

^  » 

^^ 

side  were  almost  worthless.  Lastly,  provisions  with 
the  French  were  woefully  scarce ;  the  lower  country 
had  heen  swept  absolutely  bare.  Montcalm  depended 
on  Montreal  for  every  mouthful  of  food,  and  Wolfe 
was  now  between  him  and  his  source  of  supply. 

By  nine  o'clock  Montcalm  had  all  his  men  in  front 
of  the  western  walls  of  the  city  and  was  face  to  face 
with  Wolfe,  only  half  a  mile  separating  them.  His 
old  veterans  of  William  Henry,  Oswego,  and  Ticon- 
deroga  were  with  him,  the  reduced  regiments  of 
B^arn,  Royal  Rousillon,  Languedoc,  La  Sarre  and  La 
Guienne,  some  1,300  strong,  with  700  colony  regulars 
and  a  cloud  of  militia  and  Indians.  Numbers  of 
these  latter  had  been  pushed  forward  as  skirmishers 
into  the  thickets,  woods,  and  cornfields  which  fringed 
the  battlefield,  and  had  caused  great  annoyance  and 
some  loss  to  the  British,  who  were  lying  down  in 
their  ranks,  reserving  their  strength  and  their  ammu- 
nition for  a  supreme  effort.  Three  pieces  of  cannon, 
too,  had  been  brought  to  play  on  them — no  small 
trial  to  their  steadiness;  for,  confident  of  victory, 
it  was  not  to  Wolfe's  interest  to  join  issue  till  Mont- 
calm had  enough  of  his  men  upon  the  ridge  to  give 
finality  to  such  a  blow.  At  the  same  time  the 
expected  approach  of  Bougainville  in  the  rear  had 
to  be  watched  for  and  anticipated.  It  was  indeed 
a  critical  and  anxious  moment.  The  48th  regi- 
ment were  stationed  as  a  reserve  of  Wolfe's  line, 
though  to  act  as  a  check  rather  to  danger  from 
Bougainville  than  as  a  support  to  the  front  attacks 
in  which  they  took  no  part.  Part,  too,  of  Towns- 
hend's  brigade,  who  occupied  the  left  of  the  line 
nearest  to  the  wooded  slopes  in  which  the  plain 
terminated,  were   drawn  up  en  potence^  or  at  right 

322 


4 


[1759 

IS  with 

ountry 

pended 

Wolfe 

?ply. 
Q  front 
to  face 
n.     His 
.  Ticon- 
ents  of 
and  La 
regulars 
ibers   of 
•mishers 

fringed 
i,nce  and 
down  in 
r  ammu- 

cannon, 

10  small 
victory, 

11  Mont- 
to  give 

lime   the 
•ear  had 
indeed 
|th   regi- 
le's  line, 
|er  from 
attacks 
Towns- 
the  line 
lb   plain 
at  right 


1759]     WOLFE'S  LINE  OF  BATTLE 

angles  to  the  main  column,  in  case  of  attacks  from 
flank  or  rear.  The  Bougainville  incident  is,  in  fact, 
a  feature  of  this  critical  struggle  that  has  been  too 
generally  ignored,  but  in  such  a  fashion  that  infer- 
ences might  be  drawn,  and  have  been  drawn,  detri- 
mental to  that  able  officer's  sagacity.  Theoretically 
he  should  have  burst  on  the  rear  of  Wolfe's  small 
army,  as  it  attacked  Montcalm,  with  more  than  2,300 
tolerable  troops.  He  was  but  six  miles  off,  and  it  was 
now  almost  as  many  hours  since  the  British  scaled  the 
cliff.  Pickets  and  a  small  battery  or  two  between 
himself  and  Wolfe  had  been  early  in  the  morning 
actually  engaged.  The  simple  answer  is  that  Bou- 
gainville remained  ignorant  of  what  was  happening. 
Nothing  but  an  actual  messenger  coming  through 
with  the  news  would  have  enlightened  him,  and  in 
the  confusion  none  came  till  eight  o'clock.  The  sound 
of  desultory  firing  borne  faintly  against  the  wind  from 
the  neighbourhood  of  the  city  had  little  significance 
for  him.  It  was  a  chronic  condition  of  affairs,  and 
Bougainville's  business  was  to  watch  the  upper  river, 
where  an  attack  was  really  expected.  It  was  a  rare 
piece  of  good  fortune  for  Wolfe  that  the  confusion 
among  the  French  was  so  great  as  to  cause  this 
strange  omission.  But  then  it  was  Wolfe's  daring 
that  had  thus  robbed  a  brave  enemy  of  their  presence 
of  mind  and  created  so  pardonable  a  confusion. 

The  constituents  of  that  ever-memorable  line  of 
battle  which  Wolfe  drew  up  on  the  Plains  of  Abra- 
ham must  of  a  surety  not  be  grudged  space  in  this 
chapter.  On  the  right  towards  the  cliffs  of  the  St. 
Lawrence  were  the  28th,  the  35th,  the  43rd,  and 
the  Louisbourg  Grenadiers  under  Monckton.  In  the 
centre,  under  Murray,  were  the  4:7th,  58th,  and  the 

323 


y 


THE  ATTACK 


[1759 


78th  Highlanders.  With  Townshend  on  the  left 
were  the  15th  {en  potence)  and  the  2nd  battalion 
of  the  60th  or  Royal  Americans — in  all  somewhat 
over  3,000  men.  In  reserve,  as  already  stated,  was 
Burton  with  the  48th,  while  Howe  with  some  light 
infantry  occupied  the  woods  still  farther  back,  and 
the  3rd  battalion  of  the  60th  guarded  the  landing- 
place.  None  of  these  last  corps  joined  in  the  actual 
attack. 

When  Montcalm,  towards  ten  o'clock,  under  a 
cloudy  but  fast-clearing  sky,  gave  the  order  to  ad- 
vance, he  had,  at  the  lowest  estimate  from  French 
sources,  about  3,500  men,  exclusive  of  Indians  and 
flanking  skirmishers,  who  may  be  rated  at  a  further 
1,500.  The  armies  were  but  half  a  mile  apart,  and 
the  French  regulars  and  militia,  being  carefully  but 
perhaps  injudiciously  blended  along  their  whole  line, 
went  forward  with  loud  shouts  to  the  attack. 

The  British,  formed  in  a  triple  line,  now  sprang 
to  their  feet  and  moved  steadily  forward  to  receive 
the  onset  of  the  French.  Wolfe  had  been  hit  on 
the  wrist,  but  hastily  binding  up  the  shattered  limb 
with  his  handkerchief,  he  now  placed  himself  at  the 
head  of  the  Louisbourg  Grenadiers,  whose  temerity 
against  the  heights  of  Beauport,  in  July,  he  had  so 
soundly  rated.  He  had  issued  strict  orders  that  his 
troops  were  to  load  with  two  bullets,  and  to  reserve 
their  fire  till  the  enemy  were  at  close  quarters.  He 
was  nobly  obeyed,  though  the  French  columns  came 
on  firing  wildly  and  rapidly  at  long  range,  the  militia 
throwing  themselves  down,  after  their  backwoods 
custom,  to  reload,  to  the  disadvantage  of  the  regular 
regiments  among  whom  they  were  mixed.  The  British 
fire,  in  spite  of  considerable  punishment,  was  admir- 

324 


I 


[1759 

B  left 
talion 
ewhat 
1,  was 
3  light 
k,  and 
.nding- 
actupl 

nder  a 
to  ad- 
French 
ms  and 
further 
irt,  and 
lUy  but 
ole  line, 
;k. 
sprang 
receive 
hit  on 
[ed  limb 
at  the 
imerity 
had  so 
that  his 
reserve 
irs.     He 
,8  came 
militia 
skwoods 
regular 
British 
admir- 


1759] 


VICTORY 


ably  restrained,  and  when  delivered  it  was  terrible. 
Knox  tells  us  the  French  received  it  at  forty  paces, 
that  the  volleys  sounded  like  single  cannon  shots, 
so  great  was  the  precision,  and  French  officers  sub- 
sequently declared  they  had  never  known  anything 
like  it.  Whole  gaps  were  rent  in  the  French  ranks, 
and  in  the  confusion  which  followed,  the  British 
reloaded  with  deliberation,  poured  in  yet  another 
deadly  volley,  and  with  a  wild  cheer  rushed  upon 
the  foe.  They  were  the  pick  of  a  picked  army,  and 
the  shattered  French,  inured  to  arms  in  various  ways 
though  was  every  man  of  them,  had  not  a  chance. 
Montcalm's  2,000  regulars  were  ill  supported  by 
the  still  larger  number  of  their  comrades,  who,  un- 
surpassed behind  breastworks  or  in  forest  warfare, 
were  of  little  use  before  such  an  onslaught.  The 
rush  of  steel,  of  bayonet  on  the  right  and  centre, 
of  broadsword  on  the  left,  swept  everything  before  it 
and  soon  broke  the  French  into  a  flying  mob,  checked 
here  and  there  by  brave  bands  of  white-coated  regu- 
lars, who  offered  a  brief  but  futile  resistance.  Wolfe, 
in  the  meantime,  was  eagerly  pressing  forward  at  the 
head  of  his  Grenadiers,  while  behind  him  were  the 
28th  and  the  35th,  of  Lake  George  renown.  One  may 
not  pause  here  to  speculate  on  the  triumph  that  must 
at  such  a  moment  have  fired  the  bright  eyes  that 
redeemed  his  homely  face  and  galvanised  the  sickly 
f I'ame  into  a  very  Paladin  of  old  as  sword  in  hand  he 
led  his  charging  troops.  Such  inevitable  reflections 
belong  rather  to  his  own  story  than  to  that  of  the 
long  war  which  he  so  signally  influenced,  and  it  was 
now,  in  the  very  moment  of  victory,  as  all  the  world 
well  knows,  that  he  fell.  He  was  twice  hit  in  rapid 
succession — a  ball  in  the  groin  which  did  not  stop 

325 


V!r 


I 


11 


DEATH  OF  WOLFE 


[1759 


him,  and  a  second  through  the  lungs,  cgainst  which 
his  high  courage  fought  in  vain.  He  was  seen  to 
stagger  by  Lieutenant  Browne  of  the  Grenadiers  and 
2nd  regiment,  who  rushed  forward  to  his  assistance. 
"  Support  me,"  exclaimed  Wolfe,  "  lest  my  gallant 
fellows  should  see  me  fall."  But  the  lieutenant  was 
just  too  late,  and  the  wounded  hero  sank  to  the 
ground;  not,  however,  before  he  was  also  seen  by 
Mr.  Henderson,  a  volunteer,  and  almost  immediately 
afterwards  by  an  officer  of  artillery.  Col.  Williamson, 
and  a  private  soldier  whose  name  has  not  been  pre- 
served. The  accurate  Knox  himself  was  not  far  off, 
and  this  is  the  account  given  him  by  Browne  that 
same  evening,  and  seems  worthy  to  hold  the  field 
against  the  innumerable  claims  that  have  been  set 
up  iii  the  erratic  interests  of  "  family  tradition  "  : — 
These  four  men  carried  the  dying  general  to  the 
rear,  and  by  his  own  request,  being  in  great  pain, 
laid  him  upon  the  ground.  He  refused  to  see  a 
surgeon,  declared  it  was  all  over  with  him,  and  sank 
into  a  state  of  torpor.  "  They  run  I  see  how  they 
run  ! "  cried  out  one  of  the  officers.  "  Who  run  ?  " 
asked  Wolfe,  suddenly  rousing  himself.  "  The 
enemy,  sir  ;  egad,  they  give  way  everywhere."  "  Go 
one  of  you,  my  lads,"  said  the  dying  general,  "  with 
all  speed  to  Colonel  Burton,  and  tell  him  to  march 
down  to  the  St.  Charles  River  and  cut  off  the  retreat 
of  the  fugitives  to  the  bridge."  He  then  turned  on 
his  side,  and  exclaiming,  "  God  be  praised,  I  now  die 
in  peace,"  sank  into  insensibility,  and  in  a  short  time, 
on  the  ground  of  his  victory  which  for  all  time  was 
to  influence  the  destinies  of  mankind,  gave  up  his 
life  contentedly  at  the  very  moment,  to  quote  Pitt's 
stirring  eulogy,  "  when  his  fame  began." 

326 


i 


I 


1759]  T0WN8HEND  TAKES  COMMAND 


CHAPTER  XI 

WITH  the  fall  of  Wolfe,  the  chief  command  de- 
volved on  Monckton ;  but  that  gallant  officer, 
like  his  chief,  was  stretched  upon  the  ground  with 
a  ball  through  his  lungs,  though  the  wound  in  this 
case  was  happily  not  a  fatal  one.  It  then  fell  upon 
Townshend  to  clinch  the  victory  won  by  the  man 
whom  he  alone  of  all  the  army  had  been  inclined  to 
belittle,  and  no  fault  can  be  found  with  the  fashion 
in  which  he  did  it. 

The  main  part  of  the  battle  was  over  in  twenty 
minutes.  Montcalm's  army  was  swept  in  such  head- 
long rout  and  confusion  from  the  field  that  isolated 
efforts  to  stem  the  tide  were  futile,  and  the  brave 
French  general,  who,  mounted  on  his  black  horse,  had 
done  his  utmost  to  rally  the  broken  troops,  was  now 
in  this  bitter  hour  himself  struck  down  with  a  mortal 
wound.  But  on  either  flank  of  the  actual  battlefield 
there  had  been  resistance  of  a  most  effective  kind. 
Large  bodies  of  Canadian  irregulars  and  Indians 
had  thrown  themselves  into  the  bordering  woods, 
and  poured  a  hot  fire  into  the  victorious  British. 
There  were  no  Rangers  on  the  spot,  and  it  had  fallen 
to  the  lot  of  the  Highlanders  and  light  infantry 
to  clear  the  woods  as  they  advanced.  The  former, 
rashly  trusting  to  their  broadswords  only,  lost  160 
out  of  600  men,  mostly  in  this  perilous  performance. 

327 


!)    it 


I 


1(1 


'  i] 


FRENCH  AND  BRITISH  LOSSES  [1759 

After  a  time,  however,  these  flanking  sharpshooters 
of  the  enemy  were  driven  from  their  cover  to  swell 
the  panic-stricken  mob  af  fugitives  who  were  choking 
the  gates  of  Quebec  and  the  approaches  to  the  bridge 
over  the  St.  Charles.  The  guns  of  the  city,  how- 
ever, had  no  immediate  reasoii  to  share  in  the  general 
paralysis,  and  Townshend  sounded  the  recall  as  they 
began  to  play  upon  his  pursuing  troops.  Trenching 
tools  and  guns  were  being  rapidly  brought  up  from 
the  Anse  du  Foulon,  and  no  time  was  lost  in 
strengthening  the  position.  An  advanced  party  of 
Bougainville's  force  had  actually  attacked  the  rear 
during  the  battle,  but  the  troops  left  in  reserve  had 
repulsed  them  without  difficulty.  The  main  column 
now  arrived,  but  it  was  too  late,  for  Montcalm's  army 
had  vanished,  and  4,000  veterans  flushed  with  vic- 
tory barred  the  way. 

The  loss  of  the  French  during  the  action  was 
about  1,500,  including  250  prisoners.  Of  the  Brit- 
ish, 58  were  killed  and  597  wounded.  Knox  tells 
us  that  many  of  the  French  officers  who  were 
taken  were  still  haunted  with  fears  of  vengeance 
for  Fort  William  Henry,  and  with  bared  heads 
protested  earnestly  that  they  had  taken  no  part  in 
that  lamentable  massacre.  Montcalm,  shot  through 
the  abdomen,  lay  dying  within  the  ruined  town. 
When  told  that  he  had  only  twelve  hours  to  live, 
he  professed  satisfaction,  since  he  would  not  in  that 
case  be  a  witness  of  the  surrender  of  the  city.  He 
declared  that  as  he  was  fated  to  be  beaten,  he  was 
glad  it  was  by  so  brave  an  enemy.  He  refused  to 
issue  any  more  orders,  saying  his  time  was  too  short, 
and  he  would  fain  be  left  alone.  He  did  not,  how- 
ever, forget  his  soldiers,  and  dictated  a  generous  note 

328 


1769] 


DEATH  OF  MONTCALM 


to  Townshend,  on  behalf  of  his  prisoners  and  the 
Canadians  generally,  assuring  him  at  the  same  time 
of  his  confidence  in  the  humanity  of  the  English. 

*•  Bo  their  protector,"  he  winds  up  with  touching 
quaintness,  **  as  I  have  been  their  father." 

The  brave  gentleman  and  able  soldier  died  before 
the  dawn.  In  the  confusion  no  coffin  was  forth- 
coming. His  remains  were  placed  in  a  deal  box, 
and,  escorted  by  a  few  officers  of  the  garrison  and 
a  troop  of  women  and  children,  were  borne  to  the 
chapel  of  the  Ursulines,  and  deposited  in  a  grave 
made  by  the  bursting  of  a  British  shell. 

Vaudreuil,  in  the  meantime,  met  the  fugitives  from 
the  battlefield  at  the  bridge  over  the  St.  Charles, 
where  there  was  a  scene  of  indescribable  confusion. 
Every  one  had  lost  their  heads,  and  veteran  officers 
were  clamouring  for  a  surrender,  crying  out  that  the 
British  were  upon  them,  and  that  they  would  be  cut 
to  pieces. 

The  British,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  had  ceased  from 
the  pursuit,  and  were  concentrating  on  their  lines, 
worn  out  with  exhaustion  and  fatigue.  Nothing, 
however,  could  allay  the  panic  of  the  French,  which 
indeed  passed  all  reason.  A  council  of  war  was 
called.  Vaudreuil  loudly  blamed  Montcalm  for 
precipitating  a  conflict  which  he  himself  carefully 
shirked,  and  then  proceeded  to  give  a  taste  of  his 
courage  and  generalship  by  urging  a  retreat  up  the 
river  of  the  whole  army.  In  the  demoralized  state 
of  the  French  his  suggestions  met  with  an  only  too 
ready  response.  The  whole  position  of  Beauport 
was  abandoned,  just  as  it  stood,  tents  and  all,  to  be 
looted  by  country  people  and  the  Indians.  Bougain- 
ville was  notified  of   the  movement,  and    at  dark 

329 


'  1     !l 

!i 


\: 


^     'I 


,  'i 


'it 


'f 


FLIGHT  OF  THE  FRENCH  ARMY  [1759 

that  same  evening  the  entire  French  force,  except  the 
militiamen  who  deserted  to  their  homes  and  the 
feeble  garrison  within  the  city,  were  hurrying  round 
the  British  position  at  a  pace  which  the  Chevalier 
Johnstone,  who  was  with  them,  calls  a  disgraceful 
rout.  Not  only  Montcalm,  but  Senezergue  and  De 
L'Ours,  his  second  and  third  in  command,  had  been 
mortally  wounded.  De  Ramezay,  with  a  thousand 
quite  inefficient  men,  mere  citizens  for  the  most  part, 
was  left  in  the  city  with  instructions  to  surrender  if 
an  assault  should  be  threatened.  The  remnant  were 
not  lackinj^  in  spirit,  and  had  endured  the  siege  with- 
out murmur,  but  to  expect  more  of  them  at  this 
moment  was  ridiculous.  If  the  French  army,  they 
justly  urged,  was  afraid  to  again  face  Wolfe's  vic- 
torious battalions,  what  could  be  expected  of  a  few 
hundred  half-starved  old  men  and  boys,  v/ith  only 
a  score  or  two  Haslors  and  soldiers  to  stiffen  them  ? 
The  French  army,  in  the  meantime,  did  not  stay 
their  rapid  flight  till  they  had  placed  thirty  miles 
behind  them  and  reached  Jacques  Cartier  on  the  St. 
Lawrence.  A  message  had  been  sent  on  the  day  of 
battle  to  LcJvis  at  Montreal,  who  was  now  in  chief 
command,  and  Vaudreuil's  expectations  that  he 
would  descend  the  river  and  meet  them  at  Jacques 
Cartier  were  well  founded.  When  that  brave  and 
vigorous  soldier  reached  the  camp  of  the  fugitive 
army  he  was  filled  with  indignation,  as  well  ho  may 
have  been.  To  a  man  who  Lm\  more  than  once  won 
victories  against  great  odds  the  situation  wan  hu- 
miliating enough.  Never  in  their  darkest  days  of 
inexperience,  indiscipline,  and  bud  leadership  had 
the  British  in  America  behaved  so  badly.  Bou- 
gainville's force,  whfch  had  retired  again  upon  Cap 

330 


X] 


1759] 


PANIC  OF  THE  FRENCH 


Rouge,  had  increased,  according  to  French  writers, 
to  3,000  men.  There  had  been,  moreover,  1,500  good 
militia  inactive  on  the  Beauport  lines,  to  say  nothing 
of  the  garrison  of  the  city,  while  in  Vaudreuil's 
fugitive  army  there  could  not  have  been  much  loss 
than  another  3,000  soldiers,  and  in  great  part  good 
ones.  The  British  army  befor',3  the  city  walls  was 
reduced  by  casualties  to  under  4,000.  Wolfe's  total 
losses,  prior  to  the  battle,  in  killed  and  wounded 
and  sick,  had  been  1,500.  There  were  probably  2,000 
efficient  men  on  guard  at  the  camps,  hospitals,  and 
batteries  below  Quebec,  which  were  liable  to  attack 
at  any  moment  from  bands  of  guerillas.  Townshend 
could  hardly  have  drawn  seriously  on  this  reserve,  and 
we  may  therefore  picture  him,  with  his  small  army 
and  a  few  sailors  who  had  assisted  in  hauling  up 
his  guns  and  stores,  busy  for  the  moment  with  pick 
and  shovel  upon  the  Plains  of  Abraham.  The  de- 
sertion of  many  thousand  militia  is  allowed  for  in 
the  above  estimate  of  the  French,  which  is,  in  fact, 
their  own.  Comment  is  needless.  Panic  is  spelled 
in  every  line  of  it,  but  it  must  always  be  remembered 
that  the  author  of  the  panic  was  the  young  hero 
now  lying  dead  in  the  cabin  of  the  Sutherland. 

L^vis,  when  he  reached  Jacques  Cartier,  breathed 
some  heart  into  Vaudreuil's  demoralized  army.  A 
hundred  mounted  men  with  sacks  of  meal  were 
despatched  in  haste  by  a  circuitous  route  to  Quebec, 
with  instructions  to  Ramezay  to  hold  out,  for  help 
was  coming.  The  troops  themselves  marched  upon 
the  18th.  They  were  to  pick  up  Bougainville  at  Cap 
Rouge,  ar.l  would  then  far  outnumber  the  British. 
But  that  night,  wb»>n  Htill  fifteen  miles  from  the  city, 
the  news  reached  them  tl;at  it  lid-a  fallen. 

331 


^-'t 


I 


'i 


;*  >l 


SCBBENDEB  OF  QUEBEC       [1759 

There  is  not  much  to  be  said  of  the  four  days 
which  Townshend  and  his  troops  spent  upon  the 
heights  before  Quebec.  He  extended  his  lines  down 
to  the  St.  Charles,  and  pushed  his  trenches  close  up 
to  the  walls.  Within  the  city  all  was  wretchedness, 
recrimination  and  despair,  save  for  a  small  body 
of  gunners,  who  pounded  the  British  trenches  with 
commendable  spirit,  but  with  little  effect.  On  the 
evening  of  the  17th  some  threatening  movements 
of  the  English  ships  and  troops  put  a  finishing 
touch  to  the  futile  and  vanishing  courage  of  the 
feeble  garrison.  Their  officers,  and  small  blame  to 
them,  refused  to  fight,  and  told  Ramezay,  a  gallant 
old  gentleman  with  a  good  record,  that  it  was  not 
fair  to  expect  them  to  sustain  the  assault  of  a 
disciplined  army  from  which  their  own,  though  far 
superior  in  numbers,  had  fled.  There  was  a  doughty, 
if  unreasonable,  town  Major,  however,  one  Johannes, 
who  waxed  indignant  at  such  sentiments,  and  em- 
phasized his  indignation  with  the  flat  of  his  sword. 
But  it  was  of  no  avail.  Ramezay  had  no  choice 
but  to  hoist  the  white  flag,  though  the  devoted 
Johannes,  who  surely  deserves  to  be  remembered  at 
such  a  moment,  instantly  hauled  it  down  again.  He 
was  alone  in  his  protests,  but  eventually  consented 
to  go  himself  to  Townshend  with  an  offer  of  capitu- 
lation. It  seems  that,  by  making  subtle  efforts  to 
spin  out  the  negotiations,  he  defeated  thereby  his 
own  object  by  wearing  out  Townshend's  limited  stock 
of  patience,  since  all  the  satisfaction  he  could  bring 
to  Ramezay  was  that  if  the  place  were  not  delivered 
up  by  eleven  o'clock  it  would  be  carried  by  storm. 
Ramezay  signed  the  articles  submitted  to  him,  and 
they  were  in  Townshend's  hands  by  the  time  agreed 

332 


1759]      LEVIS  ARRIVES  TOO  LATE 

upon.  He  had  scarcely  received  them  when  Levis' 
light  horse  with  the  meal  hags  rode  in  to  say  that 
succour  was  coming.  Ramezay,  however,  with  an 
honour  that  does  him  credit,  refused  to  cancel  an 
agreement  on  which  che  ink  had  scarcely  dried.  The 
terms  were  favourable,  for  Townshend's  position 
was  none  too  secure,  and  without  loss  of  time  he 
marched  his  army  into  the  ruined  town,  which  had 
yet  another  siege  to  endure,  though  its  details  have 
been  hopelessly  obscured  by  the  glamou"  of  the  first 
one.  It  will  be  our  duty  in  the  succeeding  chapter 
to  say  something  of  an  episode  in  British  history 
that  is  not  without  honour,  but,  for  the  reason,  no 
doubt,  just  mentioned,  is  utterly  without  fame. 

In  regard  to  this  memorable  18th  of  Septom- 
bor  it  only  remains  to  tell  how  the  re-invigorated 
Fro'ich  army  learnt  that  night  at  St.  Augustin 
that  they  were  too  late,  and  that  the  Union  Jack 
was  already  floating  over  the  ruins  of  the  proud 
^  ity  which  for  a  century  and  a  half  had  been  almost 
more  French  than  Franco  herself. 

Of  the  still  more  fan.ous  13th  of  the  same 
month  what  more  can  bo  suid  ?  It  is  my  business  to 
follow  out  the  campaign  to  its  termination,  and  in 
so  doing  to  seem,  perhaps,  a  destroyer  of  landmarks, 
a  disturber  of  time-honoured  traditions.  I  should 
like,  however,  so  far  as  my  own  study  of  these  -^-^ars 
teaches  me,  to  endorse  rather  than  to  disturb  ancient 
landmarks.  The  fight  upon  the  Plains  of  Abraham, 
beyond  all  doubt  or  question,  settled  the  fate  of 
Canada,  and  eliminated  the  Frenchman  as  a  govern- 
ing factor  in  the  life  of  the  western  continent.  It 
did  yet  more,  for  if  the  republic  of  the  United  States 
was  born  at  Yorktown,  its  seeds  were  surely  sown 

333 


) 


1  ^.'i 


] 


i 


I  ', 


REJOICINGS  IN  ENGLAND     [1759 

on  the  plateau  of  Quebec.  In  all  history  there  is  no 
more  dramatic  episode ;  at  the  same  time  it  would 
be  hard  to  name  one  that  had  more  influence  on 
the  future  of  the  world. 

The  infinite  significance  of  the  achievement  was,  of 
course,  in  groat  part  hidden  from  the  eyes  of  thoso 
who  shared  in  or  applauded  it.  But  the  immediate 
value  of  the  victory  was  patent  enough,  to  the 
meanest  intelligence.  When  the  news  arrived  in 
England,  following  so  closely  as  it  did  on  tidings  of 
a  disheartening  kind,  there  was  an  outburst  of  en- 
thusiasm that,  though  tempered  in  one  sense,  was  in 
another  stimulated  to  an  even  greater  excess  of 
emotion  by  the  victor's  glorious  death.  Ail  England 
blazed  with  bonfires  and  resounded  with  pealing  bells, 
but  the  grief  for  Wolfe,  mingled  with  the  sounds 
of  triumph,  Burke  tells  us  was  most  noticeable. 
"  The  loss  of  a  genius  in  war  is  a  loss  that  we  know 
not  how  to  repair."  "The  people,"  says  Walpole, 
"  triumphed  and  wept ;  for  Wolfe  had  fallen  in  the 
hour  of  victory  I  Joy,  curiosity,  astonishment  were 
painted  on  every  countenance.  Not  an  incident 
but  was  heroic  and  affecting  ! "  The  recent  doubters 
abased  themselves,  the  tongues  of  envy  which 
had  freely  wagged  wore  silenced.  Townshend, 
who  failed  significantly  to  do  full  honour  in  his 
despatches  to  his  dead  rival,  was  driven  amid 
much  obloquy  to  defend  himself  in  print,  which  he 
did  but  tamely.  The  affection  with  which  the  army 
he  commanded  regarded  their  fallen  chief  could  be 
instanced  by  a  flood  of  written  testimony :  "  Our  joy 
is  inexpressibly  damped,"  wrote  Knox  on  the  even- 
ing of  the  13th,  "by  1  the  loss  of  one  of  the  greatest 
heroes  that  this  or  any  ago  can  boast  of." 

334 


1759] 


BURIAL  OF  WOLFE 


But  all  further  eulogy  on  Wolfe  must  bo  resisted. 
Though  the  crucial  blow  of  the  war  had  been  struck 
and  the  striker  was  dead,  there  was  yet  much  to  be 
done  and  much  even  to  be  suffered  before  the  end 
came.  For  the  present,  seeing  we  must  return  later 
to  Quebec,  it  will  be  sufficient  to  state  that  Murray 
was  left  in  command  of  the  shattered  city  with 
almost  all  the  troops  that  survived  the  campaign, 
and  that  on  October  17th  Admiral  Saunders  and  his 
ships  sailed  for  England,  carrying  with  them  the 
embalmed  body  of  the  dead  soldier  whose  endeavours 
they  had  from  first  to  last  so  loyally  seconded. 

The  Royal  William,  bearing  the  remains,  arrived 
at  Portsmouth  on  November  the  17th.  Amid  the 
firing  of  minute  guns  from  the  fleet,  the  tolling  of 
mufiled  bells,  and  the  hushed  silence  of  a  vast 
concourse  of  spectators,  the  funeral  cortege  wound 
its  way  through  the  town  on  the  long  road  to 
London. 

Wolfe  was  laid  by  hi  father's  side  in  the  family 
vault  at  Greenwich  church,  while  the  bulky  monu- 
ment in  Westminster  Abbey  commemorates  a  nation's 
gratitude  if  it  does  no  great  credit  to  its  taste. 

While,  with  8,000  men,  Wolfe  had  gone  to  en- 
counter Montcalm  and  L^vis,  and  take  Quebec, 
Amherst,  with  almost  as  many  good  troops  and  5,000 
provincials  in  addition,  had  proceeded  against  Bourla- 
maque,  who,  with  what  forces  could  be  spared  from 
the  main  army,  was  to  defend  the  Champlain  route 
to  Canada.  That  Wolfe  succeeded  and  his  chief 
failed  is  a  fact  of  history  that,  reduced  to  bare  figures, 
creates  an  unfair  inference.  The  former  won  success 
by  genius  and  dash  which  we  may  almost  fancy  com- 
pelled the  assistance  which  an  admiring  fortune  gave 

335 


i 


I 


tt\ 


AMHERST 


[1759 


),' 


*     1 1 


r 


him.  The  latter  failed  from  the  lack  of  such  inspira- 
tion as  is  heaven-born  and  given  to  but  a  few.  He 
was  thorough,  and  careful,  and  made  almost  no  mis- 
takes ;  but  he  had  great  difficulties  to  contend  with, 
and  did  not  succeed,  this  year  at  least,  in  attracting 
the  smiles  of  fortune. 

Amherst  was,  in  truth,  a  good  soldier  and  a  man  of 
tact  as  well.  He  was  well  liked  in  America,  though 
he  had  to  face  the  bad  odour  which  the  hapless 
Abercromby  had  left  behind  him.  This,  however, 
in  the  provinces  which  had  reason  to  complain,  he 
had  no  difficulty  in  surmounting.  It  was  in  those 
rather  who  had  none,  but  on  the  contrary  owed  their 
deliverance  from  three  years  of  frontier  war,  and 
misery  and  massacre,  to  the  self-sacrifice  of  Forbes, 
that  obstruction  and  discontent  met  his  friendly 
overtures. 

In  Philadelphia,  where  the  brave  Scotchman  had 
just  laid  down  his  life,  and  whither  Amherst  went 
early  in  tht,  year  to  talk  about  reinforcements  and 
Indian  a£Pairs,  he  found  no  gratitude  whatever  for 
the  routing  of  the  French  and  Indian  upon  the  long- 
harried  Pennsylvania  border.  There  was  much 
grumbling  at  having  to  shelter  the  troops  who  had 
fought  and  bled  for  them,  and  still  more  because 
government  had  not  yet  met  the  claims  of  team- 
owners  and  hucksters,  whose  impositions  the  honest 
Forbes,  it  will  be  remembered,  had  denounced  in  un- 
measured terms.  The  fact  was,  that  every  one  in 
government  employ  in  America,  from  Amherst  and 
Wolfe  down  to  the  meanest  private,  had  to  wait  for 
their  money.  It  was  a  time  of  supreme  effort  and 
self-denial,  and  a  moment  well  worth  it,  if  ever  there 
was    one.     Still   it   was    aggravated   by   scandalous 

336 


1769] 


WASHINGTON  RESIGNS 


negligence  on  the  part  of  Barrington,  the  English 
Secretary  for  War.  Amherst  was  immensely 
hampered,  and  had  to  occupy  himself  in  urging  the 
provincial  governments  to  temporary  financial  ex- 
pedients, which  was  not  easy,  as  the  credit  of  the 
imperial  government  had  suffered  greatly. 

After  finding  the  garrison  for  Fort  Pitt,  as 
Duquesne  was  now  called,  and  that  of  a  few  smaller 
posts,  the  southern  colonies,  freed  at  length  from  all 
fear  of  French  or  Indian,  relapsed  into  their  wonted 
calm  of  tobacco-planting,  visit-paying,  fox-hunting  and 
mild  wrangling  with  their  governors.  They  appear 
no  more  in  this  war,  in  which  they  had  indeed  figured 
somewhat  poorly,  while  their  borderers,  who  were  for 
the  most  part  a  race  unto  themselves,  set  to  work  to 
re-occupy  the  ravaged  districts  along  the  Blue  Ridge 
and  the  Alleghanios.  Washington,  with  no  further 
prospect  of  active  service,  now  retired  to  matrimony 
and  country  life.  He  had  gone  straight  to  Virginia 
off  the  long  and  arduous  return  march  with  the 
dying  Forbes,  accompanied,  by  several  of  his  friends 
among  the  British  officers,  and  married  in  their 
presence  the  handsome  and  well-dowered  widow, 
Mrs.  Custis.  He  was  personally  thanked  for  his  past 
services  by  the  House  of  Burgesses,  and  his  inability 
to  reply  to  the  Speaker's  eulogistic  address  drew  from 
that  gentleman  a  happy  remark,  which,  together  with 
the  incident,  has  become  historic :  "  Sit  down,  Mr. 
Washington;  your  modesty  equals  your  valour." 
Remembering  Washington's  outspoken  criticisms  of 
his  legislature  and  the  feeble  support  it  had  given 
him,  one  might  well  imagine  that  his  heart  was 
too  full  for  words,  and  as  a  simple,  straightforward 
man,  he  considered  that  the   less   said  the  better. 

337  I 


H 


I    •; 


1  ¥ 


I 


1 


RENEWED  ACTIVITY 


[1759 


Pennsylvania  in  the  meantime  was  so  backward 
in  voting  the  troops  Amherst  asked  for  that  he 
threatened  to  remove  all  the  garrisons  from  her 
frontier,  a  threat  which  brought  matters  to  a  speedy 
and  satisfactory  conclusion.  For  it  must  not  be  for- 
gotten that  there  was  a  sturdy  minority,  even  in 
Philadelphia,  who  had  felt  bitterly  the  part  played  by 
the  Legislature,  while  the  Western  Counties  had  on 
one  occasion  threatened  to  march  upon  the  city  and 
compel  the  House  to  take  military  action.  The 
Northern  Colonies,  on  the  other  hand;  swallowed  the 
memory  of  Abercromby,  made  the  best  of  financial 
difficulties,  and  came  forward  handsomely.  New 
York  found  3,000  men,  and  even  little  Jersey,  almost 
the  only  province  without  an  exposed  frontier,  sup- 
plied a  regiment  a  thousand  strong,  while  New  Eng- 
land, as  usual,  was  in  no  way  backward. 

Colonel  and  Brigadier  Prideaux,  who  had  just 
landed,  was  to  lead  a  force  up  the  Mohawk  route,  re- 
build Oswego  and  attack  Niagara.  Amherst  himself, 
as  we  know,  was  for  the  Northern  road.  ilJbany  was 
the  starting-point  for  both  armies,  and  cace  again 
when  the  ice  melted  and  the  spring  opened  it  re- 
sounded with  the  din  of  arms,  and  the  thrifty  Dutch 
traders  reaped  the  harvest  that  of  necessity  accrued 
from  the  prolonged  presence  of  nearly  20,000  armed 
men.  Once  more  the  rough  forest  road  from  Fort 
Edward  on  the  Hudson  to  Lake  George  was  beaten 
hard  by  a  steady  stream  of  marching  troops,  of  guns 
and  wagons,  and  the  old  trysting  place  at  the  lake 
head  was  again  gay  with  tents  and  varied  uniforms, 
and  the  bay  itself  dark  with  boats.  Amherst  had 
collected  here  6,000  regulars  and  nearly  5,000  pro- 
vincials.    There  were  2,000   Highlanders,  with   the 

338 


►N 


1759]    CAPTURE  OF  TICONDEROGA 

17th,  27th,  53rd  regiments,  and  1st  battalion  of  the 
60th,  besides  light  infantry  under  Gage ;  Rangers, 
who  now  ranked  as  regulars,  as  well  they  may  have, 
and  the  usual  small  complement  of  artillerymen. 

The  inevitable  delays  in  mustering  and  provision- 
ing the  colonial  troops  had  occurred,  and  it  was  the 
20th  of  July  when  another  pageant,  no  less  gorgeous 
than  that  of  Abercromby  in  the  previous  year,  and 
with  more  hopeful  prospects,  floated  down  the  lake. 
The  troops  landed  without  opposition  on  the  east 
bank  of  the  river  outlet,  and  marched  without 
hindrance  across  to  the  saw-mills  whence  Aber- 
cromby had  delivered  his  ill-timed  and  ill-fated 
assault.  Crossing  the  stream,  the  scouts  found  the 
famous  redoubt  of  Ticonderoga  stronger  than  ever, 
but  to  their  surprise  unoccupied.  Bourlamaque  was 
stationed  here  with  nearly  4,000  men — more,  in  fact, 
than  Montcalm  had  used  on  the  same  spot  with  such 
deadly  effect.  But  Amherst  was  not  Abercromby, 
as  Bourlamaque  knew  very  well,  and  would  have 
knocked  those  wooden  walls  to  pieces  in  an  hour. 
The  French  were  in  the  stone  fortress  on  the  point. 
The  preliminary  operation  of  a  siege,  with  some  little 
skirmishing  in  the  woods  which  were  full  of  French 
Indians,  went  on.  Bourlamaque,  however,  was  under 
orders  from  Vaudreuil  to  make  his  stand  at  another 
point.  So  on  the  night  of  the  26tli,  he  and  his 
garrison  embarked  quietly  on  the  lake,  abandoning 
the  fort.  After  thn  last  man  had  left,  a  dull  roar, 
followed  by  a  tremendous  explosion,  burst  on  the 
summer  night  as  part  of  the  masonry  of  the  fort  was 
hurled  skywards.  Sheets  of  flame  flared  from  the 
debris  making  a  grand  and  awful  spectacle,  while 
against  the  light  of  the  flames  the  abandoned  French 

330 


» 


..1 


i 


/ 


CROWN  POINT  ABANDONED    [1759 


i  '! 


flag  was  seon  streaming  in  the  wind.  A  sergeant  of 
Gage's  corps,  with  four  privates,  rushed  forward  and 
achieved  the  perilous  task  of  snatching  the  trophy 
from  the  blazing  buildings.  Thus,  in  dramatic  fashion, 
fell  Ticonderoga,  for  years  the  armed  gate  of  Canada, 
the  barrier  to  invading  armies,  and  the  scourge  of 
the  Northern  frontiers,  as  Duquesne  had  been  to  those 
of  the  lower  colonies. 

The  French  had  temporarily  retired  to  their  second 
fort  at  Crown  Point,  ten  miles  down  the  lake,  and 
Amherst  in  his  deliberate  fashion  followed  them,  but 
only  to  find  this  also  gutted  and  abandoned.  Bour- 
lamaque  had  carried  his  army  to  the  extreme  end  of 
Lake  Champlain,  and,  according  to  his  instructions, 
prepared  to  resist  Montcalia  at  the  ile-aux-Noix. 
This  last  was  an  island  in  the  centre  of  the  Richelieu 
River,  the  waterway  to  Canada  and  a  position  of 
great  natural  strength.  But  in  spite  of  the  numbers 
and  spirit  of  his  force,  and  his  own  skill,  Amherst 
was  now  stopped  by  an  obstacle,  small  enough  in 
itself,  but  insuperable.  This  was  the  presence  on  the 
lake  of  four  vicious  little  French  vessels,  armed  with 
cannon  and  manned  with  sailors.  Amherst  had  no- 
thing to  cope  with  them.  It  is  often  said  that  as  their 
existence  was  no  secret,  he  should  have  provided 
himself  with  a  superior  armament,  building  it  on 
Wood  Creek  early  in  the  season.  But  it  was  too  late 
for  regrets  ;  he  had  now  to  sit  down  and  create  his 
little  fleet  with  the  sole  assistance  of  the  historic  but 
inefficent  saw-mill  near  Ticonderoga. 

It  was  now  only  the  beginning  of  August,  and  his 
ships  were  not  finished  till  the  middle  of  October,  by 
which  time  there  was  little  hope  of  reaching  Canada, 
and  none  whatever  of  assisting  Wolfe,  of  whom  no 

340 


,\ 


[1759 

eant  of 
ird  and 
trophy 
Fashion, 
Ganada, 
urge  of 
to  those 

:  second 

bke,  and 

em,  but 

Bour- 

9  end  of 

notions, 

ix-Noix. 

ichelieu 

ition  of 

lumbers 

Lmherst 

3ugh  in 

)  on  the 

ed  with 

lad  no- 

as  their 

rovided 

it  on 

lOO  late 

late  his 

>ric  but 

and  his 
ber,  by 
ianada, 
lom  no 


1759]        A  ROMANTIC  FORTRESS 

news  had  come.  Three  messengers  had  been  sent  to 
him :  one  of  them  had  got  through,  but  the  others 
were  caught  and  sent  to  Montcalm.  Amherst  had  a 
passion  for  fort  building,  and  having  patched  up 
Ticonderoga,  he  decided  to  restore  and  enlarge  Crown 
Point,  which,  standing  out  on  a  promontory  at  the 
narrowest  part  of  the  lake,  was  eminently  the  key  to 
the  whole  situation.  Three  thousand  men  were  now 
set  to  work  upon  the  fortress.  Others  worked  upon 
the  ships.  The  remainder  practised  their  manoeuvres 
or  fished  in  the  lake,  while  the  Rangers,  under 
Rogers,  scoured  the  woods. 

Our  invaluable  traveller,  Dr.  Kalm,  had  been  stay- 
ing at  Crown  Point  a  few  years  earlier  in  the  piping 
times  of  peace,  as  a  guest  of  the  commandant,  M. 
Lusignan.  He  gives  a  delightful  account  of  the 
almost  idyllic  life  led  by  the  garrison  at  this  romantic 
spot.  The  fort,  he  tells  us,  was  a  quadrangle  with 
high  stone  walls,  rendered  still  more  formidable  in 
some  parts  by  the  steep  rocks  over  the  lake  on  which 
they  stood.  At  one  end  was  a  high  stone  tower 
mounted  with  guns  from  base  to  summit  while  in  the 
enclosure  were  excellent  stone  houses  for  the  men  and 
officers  and  a  chapel.  On  the  shore  adjoining  the  fort 
wore  cleared  fields,  where  the  garrison  cows  wandered 
and  where  every  private  soldier  had  his  garden.  The 
commandant  was  a  man  of  culture  and  varied  infor- 
mation. The  soldiers,  though  in  no  way  disrespectful, 
seemed  on  the  friendliest  terms  with  their  officers. 
They  were  sufficiently  paid  and  admirably  fed,  for 
the  woods  were  full  of  game,  the  lake  of  fish,  and  a 
holiday  could  always  be  had  for  the  asking.  The 
men  served  till  they  were  forty  or  fifty  years  old, 
when,  as  we  know,  the  king  presented  them  with  a 

341 


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IMAGE  EVALUATION 
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NEWS  FROM  NIAGARA 


[1759 


farm  and  provided  them  with  food  for  the  first  two 
or  three  years,  and  sometimes  even  with  a  wife. 
The  learned  Professor  gazed  with  admiration  at  the 
lofty  wood-clad  masses  of  the  Adirondacks  behind 
the  fort,  and  marked  across  the  lake  the  long,  level 
plain  of  then  virgin  forest,  backed  by  the  swelling 
ridges  of  the  green  mountains,  from  which  the  State 
of  Vermont  took  its  name.  He  rambled  everywhere, 
noting  birds  and  flowers  and  trees  and  rocks,  these 
things  being  his  immediate  business.  He  also  tells 
us  of  a  stone  windmill,  mounted  with  cannon — so 
placed  as  to  command  a  splendid  view  of  the  water 
towards  Ticonderoga — ^whence  the  hostile  barks  of 
the  British  or  their  Iroquois  allies  coiUd  be  seen 
approaching.  All  this  was  in  1749,  and  though  blood 
enough  had  been  shed  even  then  along  these  lakes, 
neither  the  Doctor  nor  his  host  could  have  guessed 
what  warlike  pageants  and  stirring  scenes  they  were 
yet  to  witness. 

News  came  to  Amherst  in  August  of  the  capture  of 
Niagara  and  the  death  of  Prideaux,  upon  which  he 
at  once  despatched  Gage  to  take  command.  The 
two  months  at  Crown  Point  were  not  wholly  inactive 
ones.  They  were  marked,  at  any  rate,  by  one  of  the 
most  sensational  pieces  of  dare-devil  enterprise  that 
even  Robert  Rogers  ever  achieved. 

Now  there  was  a  large  settlement  of  Abernakis 
Indians  on  the  St.  Francis  River  about  180  miles  north 
of  Crown  Point,  near  Montreal,  and  far  in  Bourlam- 
aque's  rear.  They  had  been  settled  there  for  several 
generations  under  the  protection  of  the  French,  and 
were  what  the  Canadian  Church  was  pleased  to  call 
Christians,  observing,  that  is  to  say,  in  ignorant  fash- 
ion, the  mere  outward  forms  of  the  Roman  Church, 

342 


1759] 


ROGERS'  EXPEDITION 


but  in  practical  Christianity  being  no  better  than  the 
darkest  western  savage.  Perhaps  they  were  even 
worse  as  inter- tribal  obligations  had  been  cast  off,  and 
they  had  no  limitations  to  their  lust  of  blood.  They 
were  invaluable,  however,  to  the  Canadians,  and  the 
scourge  of  the  New  England  frontier.  Rogers  set  out 
on  September  13th  with  230  picked  men,  to  read 
them  a  lesson.  "  Take  your  revenge,"  Amherst  told 
him;  "but  though  these  villains  have  promiscu- 
ously murdered  our  women  and  children  of  all  ages, 
it  is  my  orders  that  none  of  theirs  are  killed  or  hurt." 
Rogers  and  his  party  stole  along  the  western  shore 
of  Lake  Champlain  in  whale  boats,  unobserved  by  the 
French  cruisers,  as  far  as  Missisquoi  Bay,  90  miles  to 
the  northward.  There  he  hid  his  boats,  leaving  some 
friendly  Indians  to  watch  if  they  were  discovered, 
and  bring  him  word.  He  had  now  another  90  miles 
to  march  through  the  trackless  forest,  overlapped  up- 
on every  side  by  enemies.  His  Indian  watchers  soon 
overtook  him  with  the  information  that  his  boats 
were  destroyed,  and  that  a  large  force  of  French  were 
in  hot  pursuit.  With  this  crushing  blow  the  courage 
of  Rogers  and  his  men  rose  rather  than  fell.  They 
determined  to  press  on,  keep  ahead  of  their  pursuers, 
destroy  the  Indian  hornets'  nest  at  St.  Francis,  and 
then,  sweeping  to  the  eastward,  make  for  the  frontier 
of  New  England.  Perhaps  a  closer  knowledge  of  local 
topography,  an( .  of  the  then  state  of  the  country,  than 
could  be  expected  of  the  general  reader  is  required  to 
quite  grasp  the  daring  of  Rogers'  exploit  and  the 
woodcraft  that  made  it  possible.  He  sent  a  message 
back  to  Amherst  to  forward  provisions  to  a  certain 
spot  on  the  Connecticut  R^ver,  and  then  he  and  his 
men   toiled  on  for  ten  days  through  some   of    the 

3^3 


i  ■ 


1|! 


I 


ABEBNAEIS  SETTLEMENT  DESTROYED 

densest  swamps  and  forests  in  North  America.  When 
they  reached  the  St.  Francis  River  the  current  was 
swift  and  chin  deep.     All  of  them,  however,  but  a 
few  British  officers,  volunteers,  were  hardened  back- 
woodsmen,   and    linking    arms,    they   reached    the 
further  bank  in  safety,  though  with  great  difficulty. 
Soon  afterwards,  Rogers  climbed  to  the  top  of  a  tree, 
and   espied   the   Indian  village   three   miles   away, 
nestling  amid  the  woods  in  supreme  unconsciousness 
of  its  impending  fate.     Seci-eting  his  men,  he  himself 
crept  to  the  edge  of  the  settlement,  and  found  the 
whole  population  absorbed  in  one  of  their  character- 
istic festivals,  a  mad  orgie  of  dancing  and  clamour. 
Creeping  back  to  his  force,  which  by  sickness,  death, 
and  hardship  had  been  reduced  to  142,  he  lay  with 
them  in  hiding  till  the  dark  hours  of  the  morning. 
Then  in  a  half -circle  they  silently  advanced  upon  the 
town,  now  wrapt  in  sleep  more  profound  than  com- 
mon from  the  exertions  of  the  previous  evening.     At 
a  given  signal  from  Rogers  the  whole  band  rushed 
upon  the  cabins  and  wigwams.     The  surprise  was 
complete.     There  were  about  200  men  in  the  place, 
nearly  as  many  unfortunately,  from  Rogers'  point  of 
view,  being  absent  on  an  expedition.     Every  one  of 
them  was  killed.  A  few  got  away  upon  the  river,  but 
were  followed  up  and  slaughtered ;  though  no  women 
or  children  were  touched.      Five  English  captives 
were  released,  and  600  English  scalps,  torn  from  the 
heads  of  both  sexes  and  all  ages  beyond  the  New 
England  frontier,  were  found  nailed  to  the  doors  of 
the  houses  as  trophies.     The  Catholic  Church,  with 
amazing  incongruity,  rose  in  the  midst  of  these  un- 
redeemed barbari&ns,  three  generations  of  whom  its 
bell  had  rung  to  mass  with  laborious  regularity.  Such 

344 


It' 


1759] 


A  PERILOUS  MARCH 


was  the  Christianity  which  satisfied  the  ethics  of  the 
French-Canadian  priesthood  of  that  day.  Rogers  burnt 
the  whole  village  to  the  ground,  including  the  church, 
and  one  can  scarcely  profess  much  compunction  that 
the  priest  perished  inside  it.     Only  one  man  of  the 
British  force  was  killed  and  three  or  four  wounded. 
It  was    now  past  sunrise,    and   the   famous   back- 
woods' leader  learnt  that  there  were  400  Frenchmen 
just  in  front  of  him,  and  200  more  on  his  flank.    The 
whole  army  of  Bourlamaque  lay  between  him  and 
Crown  Point,  190  miles  away,  and  he  was  half  that 
distance  over  the  Canadian  frontier.     If  his  boats  on 
Lake  Champlain  had  escaped  notice,  he  would  have 
got  back  without  difficulty.    As  it  was,  however,  the 
circuitous  route  to  the  Connecticut  River,  whither  Am- 
herst hud  promised  to  send  food  in  case  of  accidents,  was 
Rogers'  only  choice.    Carrying  such  corn  as  they  were 
able  for  their  subsistence,  these  intrepid  men  eluded 
their  swarming  foes  by  a  forced  march  of  eight  days 
through  tangled  swamps  and  wooded  ridges.      They 
traversed  through  blinding  forests,  what  is  now  a  fair 
and   famous   country,  "the  Eastern  townships"  of 
Canada,  an  old  and  highly  developed  settlement  of 
purely  British  blood  and  origin,  sandwiched  between 
French  Canada  and  the  United  States.     Ultimately 
they  reached  the  broad  waters  of  Lake  Memphre- 
niagog,    so    familiar    now  to  the  tourist  and   the 
sportsman.     Here,  running  out  of  food,  they  sepa- 
rated into  small  parties,  so  as  better  to  kill  the  game 
they  stood  in  need  of,  but  which  proved  woefully 
scarce.     The  adventures  and  sufferings  of  the  various 
groups  before  the    survivors  reached    the    British 
lines,  are    among   the    thousand    thrilling  tales    of 
border   warfare.      Many  were   killed,   many    taken 

345 


1 1 .  jl i 


■i 


rii 


m 


I M 


'  « 


lit  / 


TO  WINTER  QUARTERS  AGAIN  [1759 

prisoners  and  carried  off  to  the  torture  and  the 
stake  in  Indian  villages.  The  officer  Amherst  had 
sent  with  food  to  the  Connecticut  River  miserably- 
failed,  for  which  failure  he  was  cashiered.  The 
despair  of  the  ninety  odd  survivors  at  this  moment 
was  at  its  height,  for  a  vast  distance  of  wilderness  had 
yet  to  be  travelled.  By  Rogers*  heroism  and  fertility 
of  resource,  however,  the  half -starved  band  were  in  one 
way  and  another  got  back  to  camp  early  in  Novem- 
ber. They  had  traversed  over  400  miles,  destroyed 
more  than  their  own  number  of  the  foulest  Indians 
in  the  north,  and  struck  a  blow  that  resounded 
through  Canada.  Amherst  thanked  them  warmly. 
One  does  not  hear  that  they  received  or  expected 
anything  more.  It  was  all  in  the  Rangers'  day's  work, 
and  Rogers  himself  has  left  an  account  of  the  ex- 
pedition. 

Amherst,  in  the  meantime,  had  completed  his  ships, 
and  on  the  first  venture  they  destroyed  their  French 
rivals.  But  it  was  now  the  middle  of  October,  and 
the  weather  had  broken :  sleet-laden  storms  were 
lashing  the  surface  of  Lake  Champlain  into  a  fury* 
and  winter  was  looming  near. 

Li^vis,  who  had  long  since  come  from  Montcalm, 
had  helped  Bourlamaque  to  make  the  passage  of  the 
Richelieu,  to  Canada  impregnable  under  a  long  siege 
— and  for  that  there  was  no  time,  since  100  guns 
securely  entrenched  defended  the  passage.  Quebec, 
too,  had  fallen,  which  lessened  the  urgency,  and  lastly 
the  service  period  of  the  provincial  troops  expired  on 
November  Ist.  So  the  army,  still  shivering  in  its 
summer  clothing,  retired  up  the  lakes,  leaving  strong 
garrisons  at  Crown  Point  and  Ticonderoga,  who  sent 
salvoes  of  artillery  echoing  through  the  surrounding 

346 


m 


II 


1759] 


PRIDEAUX 


mountains  in  honour  of  the  birthday,  and  as  it  so 
happened  the  last  one,  of  George  the  Second. 

Prideaux,  the  brigadier,  whose  mission  it  was  to 
rebuild  Oswego,  take  Niagara  and  ruin  the  French 
interest  in  those  north-western  regions  over  which 
their  sway  had  been  so  long  undisputed,  was  early  in 
the  field.  He  was  at  Schenectady  on  the  Mohawk 
route  late  in  May,  and  was  joined  by  his  Division. 
This  consisted  of  the  44th  and  43th  regiments  and 
2,600  New  York  provincials.  There  were  forts  now 
at  intervals  the  whole  way  from  the  Hudson  to  Lake 
Ontario,  and  his  communications  were  thus  secured 
against  the  cross-country  raids  from  Canada,  that  had 
been  the  terror  of  those  who  travelled  and  those  who 
lived  upon  this  forest  highway.  Johnson  was  com- 
missioned to  seize  this  favourable  moment  of  the 
waning  of  French  prestige  to  stir  up  the  Six  Nations  to 
their  old  enthusiasm  for  the  British  cause.  The  ever- 
vigilant  backwoods  baronet  needed  no  pressing,  but 
held  in  his  lavish  fashion  a  grand  council,  celebrated 
with  meat  and  drink  and  eloquence  at  Fort  Johnson. 
Five  hundrea  Indians  attended  ;  not  only  representa- 
tives of  the  faithful  nations,  but  of  several  others 
formerly  h*>stile,  who,  wise  in  their  generation,  had 
read  the  writing  on  the  wall.  This  time  they  sang  the 
war  song  on  the  banks  of  the  Mohawk  with  serious 
intent,  and  900  warriors,  at  the  response  of  their 
chiefs  painted  and  be-f eathered  themselves  for  battle. 

Prideaux  and  his  men  were  upon  the  site  of 
Oswego  by  the  middle  of  June.  Haldimand,  the 
second  in  command,  was  given  the  task  of  rebuilding 
the  fort.  Like  Bouquet  he  was  a  faithful  and  able  Swiss 
officer,  who  had  been  imported  to  assist  in  the  forma- 
tion of  that  motley  but  now  efficient  corps,  the  Royal 

347 


I 

(■ 

f 
V 


( 


■'  i. 


HALDIMAND 


[1759 


Americans.  "  He  had  helped  to  recruit  it  among 
Oglethorpe's  Highlanders  of  Georgia,  the  Germans 
and  Scotch-Irish  of  Pennsylvania,  and  the  indented 
servants,  poor  whites  and  Huguenots  of  the  two 
Carolinas.  He  has  a  threefold  claim  on  England,  but 
she  has  forgotten  him.  He  was  an  indefatigable  collec- 
tor, and  has  left  232  volumes  of  contemporary  papers 
bearing  on  this  period  to  the  British  Museum,  as  well 
as  the  Bouquet  papers,  which  were  Lis  property.  His 
military  services  were  considerable,  and  above  all, 
he  was  Governor  of  Canada  during  the  Revolu- 
tionary war  from  1778  to  1784 — a  sufficiently  critical 
and  conspicuous  post  at  that  time,  which  he  admirably 
fiUed.  Canadians  complain,  and  justly  so,  that  his 
memory  is  at  least  as  worthy  of  preservation  as  that 
of  provincial  preachers  and  forgotten  novelists,  but 
that  they  look  in  vain  through  works  devoted  to  cata- 
loguing the  illustrious  dead  for  the  name  of  this 
trusty  servant  of  the  British  crown. 

Prideaux  left  Oswego  on  July  1st.  He  had  not 
been  long  gone  when  Saint-Luc  de  la  Come,  the  well- 
known  French  partisan  leader,  &:eized  the  opportunity 
to  attack  Haldimand.  He  brought  with  him  1,200 
men,  mostly  Canadian  irregulars,  and  the  notorious 
Abb^  Picquet,  with  some  of  his  so-called  Christian 
Indians,  whom  he  exhorted  to  give  no  quarter  to 
the  British  heretics.  They  did  not  have  a  chance, 
for  though  Haldimand's  parties  were  wood-cutting 
outside  the  temporary  entrenchment  of  pork  barrels, 
they  soon  rallied  to  their  lines.  De  la  Come's  troops 
were  not  of  the  kind  to  assault  redoubts.  They 
confined  themselves  for  some  twenty-four  hours  to 
desultory  rifle  fire  from  the  bordering  woods,  and 
when  the  guns  which  had  been  brought  to  bear  on 

348 


1759]  PRIDEAUX  ON  LAKE  ONTARIO 


them  opened  from  the  entrenchments,  they  were 
seized  with  a  panic  and  raced  helter-skelter  for  their 
hoats,  knocking  over  the  reverend  Abb^  in  their 
haste.  Some  thirty  of  them  were  killed  and  wounded, 
among  the  latter  being  La  Corne  himself.  Haldi- 
mand  was  henceforward  left  in  peace,  and  in  due 
course  a  new  fort  arose  upon  the  site  of  Montcalm's 
first  Canadian  victory  by  liake  Ontario,  which  in 
after  years  became  the  familiar  quarters  of  many 
British  regiments. 

Prideaux,  in  the  meantime,  with  Sir  William 
Johnson  and  his  Lidians,  was  hugging  the  southern 
shores  of  Lake  Ontario  in  boats  and  batteaux 
mounted  with  guns.  The  coast  line  to  the  outlet  of 
the  Niagara  River,  where  the  fort  stood,  was  over 
seventy  miles.  There  v^as  a  French  warship  cruis- 
ing on  the  lake,  which  is  here  about  the  breadth  of 
the  English  Channel  at  Brighton,  so  it  was  slowly, 
and  with  due  caution,  that  the  unseaworthy  flotilla 
crept  along  the  low  shores,  in  these  days  so  in- 
stinct with  vigorous  humanity,  in  those  presenting 
to  the  restless  lake  a  continuous  background  of  silent 
and  sombre  woodland. 

Captain  Pouchot,  of  the  regiment  of  B^arn,  was  in 
command  at  Fort  Niagara,  an  excellent  of&cer,  and  one 
of  the  many  combatants  in  this  war  who  has  left 
memoirs  of  it.  The  Indians  for  once — a  sign  of  the 
change  of  times — had  failed  the  French  asnewsbearers, 
and  Pouchot  was  taken  by  surprise.  Some  of  his 
men  were  absent,  and  his  garrison  reduced  to  less  than 
600  all  told.  At  the  very  head  of  the  Ohio  water- 
shed, near  Lake  Erie,  there  were  still  some  small 
French  posts,  and  Pouchot  now  sent  to  these  for 
assistance.   Many  of  the  French  guerilla  leaders,  with 

349 


i'i' 


i 


IS 


i 


y't 


t. 


NIAGARA 


ri759 


! 


/ 


wild,  miscellaneous  bands  of  followers,  were  yet  stir- 
ring in  this  dark  country,  in  vain  hopes  of  da;:;hing 
down  and  catching  Fort  Pitt,  now  garrisoned  with 
Provincials,  unawares.  It  was  to  some  of  these  that 
Pouchot  now  sent,  and  they  hastened  to  his  succour. 
The  old  fort  at  Niagara  stood  on  much  the  same 
site  as  the  present  one,  in  the  angle,  that  is  to  say, 
where  the  river  meets  Lake  Ontario.  It  was  large, 
substantial,  and  well  armed,  as  became  the  portal 
and  defence  of  the  illimitable  trading  country  behind. 
Prideaux  had  over  2,000  men  with  him,  besides 
Johnson's  900  Indians.  One-half  of  his  force  guarded 
the  boats,  the  other  was  free  for  the  attack.  The 
Engineers,  like  Abercromby's,  proved  incompetent, 
and  their  first  trenches  were  untenable.  "  Fools 
and  blockheads  G — d  d — ^n  them,"  was  the  written 
criticism  of  an  indignant  Highland  of&cer.  When 
fresh  approaches  were  constructed  and  the  British 
guns  opened  fire  a  still  worse  thing  happened,  for  a 
shell  burst  on  leaving  the  mouth  of  a  coehorn  and 
instantly  killed  Prideaux,  who  was  standing  near. 
Johnson  now  took  command,  and  the  batteries  were 
actively  served.  In  a  fortnight  the  walls  were  badly 
shattered,  over  a  hundred  of  the  small  garrison  were 
killed  or  wounded,  and  Pouchot  realized  that  nothing 
but  immediate  succour  from  the  West  could  save  him. 
On  the  24th  Johnson's  scouts  reported  that  a  French 
force  was  approaching  from  above  Niagara  Falls. 
He  therefore  pushed  forward  during  the  night  some 
light  infantry,  Grenadiers,  and  part  of  the  46th  regi- 
ment. They  took  up  their  position  in  the  immediate 
path  of  the  approaching  French,  just  below  the 
mighty  cataract.  In  the  cool  of  the  morning  De 
Ligneris,  Aubry  Marin,  de  R^pentigny,  the  cream,  in 

350 


vt^ 


1759]      DEFEAT  OF  THE  FRENCH 

short,  of  the  Canadian  backwoods  leaders,  with  a 
wild  following  of  1,200  men,  came  down  the  portage 
road  from  above  the  Falls.  The  force  included  the 
small  garrisons  at  Venango  and  Presqu'lle,  with  a 
horde  of  fighting  traders  from  Detroit,  the  Illinois,  and 
the  West,  truculent,  ill-favoured  men  who  lived  among 
the  Indians,  and,  like  them,  went  to  battle,  strung  with 
beads  and  quills,  and  smeared  with  paint  and  grease. 
They  were  brave  enough,  but  the  banks  of  the  river 
above  the  rapids  had  been  cleared.  It  was  an  open, 
not  a  woodland  fight,  though,  indeed,  long  years  of 
practice  had  made  even  the  British  linesmen  no  mean 
performer  among  the  trees.  Here,  however,  he  was 
in  the  open  and  flanked  by  a  band  of  the  Iroquois,  the 
finest  of  savage  warriors.  The  French  threw  them- 
selves with  undisciplined  courage  and  loud  yells  upon 
the  British  front.  The  linesmen  received  them  as 
Wolfe's  troops  on  the  Plains  of  Abraham  six  weeks 
later  received  Montcalm's  assault  with  a  steady, 
withering  fire.  They  had  enough  men  here,  how- 
ever, for  a  flank  attack,  which  was  carried  out  by  the 
Indians  and  light  infantry  with  deadly  effect.  In  an 
hour  the  broken  column  of  white  savages  and  bush- 
rangers was  flying  back  in  wild  disorder  past  the 
Falls,  and  the  long  stretch  of  rapids  above  them,  to 
where  their  canoes  were  waiting,  in  smooth  water,  to 
bear  them  back  into  Lake  Erie,  whence  they  came. 

Two  hundred  and  fifty  of  the  Ohio  garrison  troops 
alone  had  been  killed  or  wounded  in  this  affair,  be- 
sides numbers  of  their  regulars.  All  the  chief  officers 
were  taken  prisoners — de  Ligneris,  Marin,  Aubry,  de 
Montigny,  and  de  Repentigny,  with  many  more. 

While  the  fight  was  in  progress  up  the  river  a 
French  officer  thought  the  British  trenches  were  un- 

351 


lil 


■M 


111 

I 


t*. 


Wit 


'f^ 


I 


l»>  I 


SURRENDER  OF  FORT  NIAGARA  [1759 

guarded,  and  a  sortie  was  attempted.  It  was  led  by 
de  Villars,  the  captor  of  Washington,  in  his  youthful 
essay  at  Fort  Necessity.  But  as  the  French  ap- 
proached what  had  seemed  empty  trenches,  a  line  of 
bayonets,  those  of  the  44th,  under  Col.  Farquhar, 
suddenly  flashed  in  their  faces,  ard  de  Villars  fell 
back,  according  to  his  orders  rather  than  to  his  in- 
clinations, for  though  he  belonged  to  a  type  whose 
failings  were  many,  lack  of  courage  was  certainly  not 
one  of  them. 

There  was  nothing  now  for  Pouchot  but  capitula- 
tion. Major  Hervey,  of  the  Bristol  family,  was  sent 
by  Johnson  to  demand  it,  and  from  him  the  French- 
man learnt  for  the  first  time  the  full  extent  of  the 
recent  defeat.  He  would  scarcely  believe  that  all 
these  redoubtable  partisans  were  prisoners  in  John- 
son's camp  till,  at  Hervey's  request,  he  sent  a  witness 
to  verify  the  fact.  This  settled  the  matter.  Johnson 
practically  made  his  own  terms,  though  the  "  honours 
of  war  "  were  conceded  in  recognition  of  the  gallantry 
of  the  defence.  Over  600  prisoners  were  sent  to 
New  York,  the  women  and  children  to  Canada. 
Fort  William  Henry  was  again  in  the  minds  of  the 
garrison,  and  most  urgent  appeals  were  made  to  John- 
son for  sufficient  safeguard  against  the  Indians.  This, 
it  need  hardly  be  said,  was  given,  a  matter  of  course, 
but  a  weaker  man  than  Johnson  would  have  found 
difficulty  in  controlling  the  plundering  instincts  of  his 
fierce  allies.  Everything,  however,  went  smoothly, 
and  the  fort,  with  its  forty  guns,  ammunition  and 
stores,  was  quietly  occupied  by  the  British. 

When  Johnson  returned  to  Oswego  a  little  friction 
arose  between  Haldimand  and  himself  as  to  the  chief 
command.    It  was  effectually  settled,  however,  by  the 

352 


[1759 


1579] 


STANWIX 


arrival  of  Gage  from  Crown  Point,  who  superseded 
both.  Gage's  instructions  were  to  attack  the  French 
posted  above  the  first  rapids  of  the  St.  Lawrence 
on  the  way  from  Lake  Ontario  to  Montreal.  He 
effected,  however,  nothing  of  any  practical  value  in 
that  direction.  It  was  reserved  for  Amherst  himself, 
in  the  following  season,  to  make  the  descent  of  the  St. 
Lawrence,  and  with  it  the  final  move  in  the  long  game. 
With  the  British  in  possession  of  Niagara  and  Oswego, 
the  French  flag  finally  disappeared  from  Lake  On- 
tario and  its  shores.  Their  western  posts  at  Detroit 
and  the  Illinois,  as  well  as  the  smaller  and  remoter 
ones,  were  isolated  by  this  severance  of  the  main 
artery,  and  could  only  be  approached  hy  the  tortuous 
water-ways,  even  now  only  known  to  the  sportsman 
and  the  lumberman  of  the  far  back  country  of  On- 
tario. General  Stanwix,  in  the  meantime  operating 
from  his  base  at  Fort  Pitt,  with  4,000  men,  had  not 
been  idle.  He  had  clinched  the  new  relations  with 
the  Ohio  tribes,  and  had  eventually  occupied  every 
fort  to  Presqu'ile  on  the  shore  of  Lake  Erie.  The 
main  trunk  of  French  Dominion  was  being  girdled 
by  the  British  axe,  and  its  far-spreading  limbs,  which 
brushed  the  distant  prairies  of  the  North  and  crossed 
the  sources  of  the  Mississippi,  must  now  perish  from 
lack  of  nourishment.  One  more  stroke,  and  the  hardy 
growth  of  empire  would  shrivel  up  and  die,  and  this 
was  to  be  aimed  by  Amherst  at  Montreal. 


n 


«i 


353 


A  A 


QUEBEC  AGAIX 


■*     <     ■/    ,•  '1     '      •.>:     i1 


[1759 

_  1  ,  .  .' 


>*■, 


CHAPTER  XII 


;< 


If- 


I'V 


i? 


MURRAY,  when  he  sat  down  with  his  small  army 
to  face  the  fierce  Canadian  winter  amid  the 
ruins  of  Quehec,  had  no  light  task  before  him.  He 
had  the  certain  prospect  of  seven  months'  complete 
isolation  from  everything  but  a  vigilant  and  hardy 
enemy,  smarting  under  the  bitterness  of  defeat.  But 
he  was  a  good  soldier,  a  son  of  Lord  Elibank,  young 
and  tough,  brave  and  generous,  and  better  fitted  for 
the  work  in  hand  than  Townahend,  who  gave  it  over 
to  him  and  returned  to  England,  we  may  well  believe, 
without  a  pang.  Murray  was  left  with  a  little  over 
7,000  men ;  but  the  strength  was  regulated  rather 
by  the  number  he  could  feed  than  the  number  he 
could  muster.  The  surrounding  country  had  been 
swept  nearly  bare  by  the  needs  of  Montcalm's  army, 
and  Murray  had  to  depend  almost  wholly  on  his  own 
stock  of  provisions  and  the  little  that  was  found  in 
Quebec.  No  relief  of  any  kind  from  any  quarter 
could  reach  l.^'m  until  May. 

Such  of  the  French  garrison  as  were  prisoners  of 
war  had  been  sent  to  England  with  the  fleet,  while 
all  the  militiamen  who  chose  to  give  up  their  arms 
and  swear  allegiance  to  King  George  were  allowed 
to  return  to  their  homes.  The  civil  population  of  the 
c^ty  had  been  scattered  over  the  country  by  the  siege. 
There  was  little  temptation,  or  indeed  encouragement, 
for  those  who  could  avoid  it  to  return  now,  and 

354 


>/ 


[1759 


)n..h? 


1759] 


THE  NUNS'  HOSPITAL 


all  army 
mid  the 
im.     He 
omplete 
d  hardy 
at.    But 
:,  young 
itted  for 
e  it  over 
[  believe, 
ttle  over 
1  rather 
mber  he 
ad  been 
l's  army, 

his  own 
found  in 

quarter 

loners  of 
et,  while 
eir  arms 
allowed 
on  of  the 
ihe  siege, 
agement, 
low,  and 


Murray  had  perhaps  some  3,000  citizens  all  told  upon 
his  hands.     During  the  moderate  weather  of  October 
and  November  there  was  an  enormous  amount  of 
work  to  be  done.      There  was  no  money  nor  any 
winter    clothing,   thanks   to   Lord    Barrington,  nor 
could  either  be  now  obtained.      Murray  was  com- 
pelled to  borrow  money  from  the  officers  and  men  of 
the  army,  who  responded  generously  ;  Eraser's  High- 
landers, we  are  told,  being  enabled  by  their  "  sobriety 
and  frugality  "  to  be  especially  forward  in  this  matter. 
Quarters  bad  to  be  rigged  up  out  of  the  shattered 
houses,  churches  and  convents,  in  preparation  for  a 
fiercer  winter   than   even  those    troops    inured    to 
American  winters  had  ever  yet  faced,  while  the  offi- 
cers put  up  with  such  accommodation  as  they  could 
find.     Knox  tells  us  that  he  was  fortunate  in  getting 
part  of  a  stable  where,  with  the  help  of  a  Canadian 
stove — even  then  a  universal  necessity — he  contrived 
to  keep  himself  warm.      He  was  detailed  on  duty  for 
a  time  to  the  general  hospital  in  the  suburbs,  where 
French  and  English  wounded  were  lying  in  great 
numbers  under  the  charge  of  the  nuns  of  the  Augus- 
tine order.      He  writes  with  rapture  of   this  fine 
building,  and  waxes  enthusiastic  on  the  perfect  order 
and  cleanliness  he  found  there,  and  the  devotion  of 
the  Sisters,  who  were  as  untiring  in  their  care  of  their 
late  foes  as  of  their  own  people.      Each  wounded 
officer  had  a  room  to  himself,  while  the  men  had  clean, 
comfortable  beds  in  sweet  and  well-aired  dormitories. 
It  was  no  wonder,  he  tells  us,  that  the  poor  English 
soldiers  were  glad  to  be  transferred  from  the  wretched 
regimental  hospitals  of  the  army  to  such  &.  haven 
of  reiit.     Knox   dined  every  night  with  the  French 
officers  and  merchants  who,  from  various    causes, 

355 


) 


•I  I 


i  'i 


i 


! 


f^) 


!      I 


SPIRITS  OF  THE  FRENCH  WOMEN  [1759 

were  attached  to  the  hospital.  Many  ladies,  too,  en- 
livened these  social  occasions  with  their  presence, 
and  amazed  him  with  their  cheerfulness  at  a  moment 
so  disastrous  for  their  country  and  fortunes.  When, 
however,  the  subject  was  touched  on  they  fell  into  a 
spasm  of  melancholy,  "  uttering  deep  sighs  and  ex- 
pressions of  heartfelt  sorrow."  As  Knox  understood 
French,  the  gentlemen,  not,  as  our  author  remarks, 
in  keeping  with  their  "  boasted  politesse,"  conversed 
frequently  in  Latin.  The  gallant  major,  however, 
was  quite  equal  even  to  this  emergency,  and  one  day 
dropped  a  bombshell  among  the  dismayed  Frenchmen 
in  the  shape  of  a  pertinent  quotation  from  the 
Georgics,  taking  care  to  pronounce  it  as  well  as  he 
could  after  their  fashion. 

Not  only  Knox,  but  an  officer  of  a  Highland  regi- 
ment wrote  in  surprise  at  the  buoyant  tempers  of 
the  Canadian  ladies.  **  Families  whom  the  calamities 
of  war  have  reduced  from  the  height  of  luxury  to  the 
want  of  common  necessaries,  laugh,  dance  and  sing, 
comforting  themselves  with  the  reflection,  Fortune 
de  guerre.  Their  young  ladies  take  the  utmost  pains 
to  teach  our  officers  French ;  with  what  view  I  know 
not,  unless  that  they  may  hear  themselves  flattered 
and  courted  without  loss  of  time." 

The  rage  against  Yaudreuil  was  very  great  among 
the  citizens  of  Quebec,  especially  the  women,  and 
found  vehement  expression  in  the  wish,  "  That  he 
may  suffer  as  miserable  and  barbarous  a  death  as 
ever  European  suffered  from  the  savages." 

Murray  issued  a  proclamation  to  the  Canadians, 
which  was  posted  on  the  door  of  every  parish  church. 
He  pointed  out  to  them  that  he  had  a  veteran  army 
in  the  heart  of  their  country,  that  the  sea  was  closed 

356 


1 

111 


il 


4  5 


V/' 


[  [1759 

boo,  en- 

resence, 

aoment 

When, 

I  into  a 
md  ex- 
ierstood 
Dmarks, 
nversed 
owever, 
one  day 
nchmen 
Dm    the 

II  as  he 

nd  regi- 
ipers  of 
Jamities 
py  to  the 
nd  sing, 
Fortune 
>st  pains 
r  I  know 
flattered 

t  among 
len,  and 
That  he 
death  as 

inadians, 
h  church, 
ran  army 
as  closed 


1759]      MURRATS  PROCLAMATION 

to  them,  and  that  their  cause  was  hopeless.  He 
hegged  them  to  think  of  the  welfare  of  their  country, 
and  not  of  useless  glory.  The  English  people  were 
ready  to  emhrace  them  as  brothers,  and  give  them  a 
freedom  which  they  had  never  known  under  the  des- 
potism which  hitherto  distinguished  the  government 
of  the  country.  He  was  prepared  to  protect  them 
against  the  savages  who  Yaudreuil,  having  himself 
fled  before  the  British  arms,  now  incited  to  mur- 
der the  people  he  had  abandoned  because  they  -^shed 
for  peace.  The  Canadians  must  now  see  how  false 
were  those  who  told  them  that  the  British  were  de- 
void of  clemency  and  humanity,  and  how  grossly  they 
had  been  imposed  upon.  Having,  therefore,  no  more 
hope  in  arms  and  no  further  excuse  for  taking  them 
up,  the  British  would  visit  those  who  did  so  with  the 
just  vengeance  that  was  the  right  of  victorious 
soldiers  who  had  held  out  to  them  the  hand  of  peace 
and  friendship.  The  oath  of  allegiance  was  admin- 
istered to  the  whole  country  east  of  Quebec.  Those 
parishes  that  deliberately  broke  it  were  liable  to 
severe  punishment,  and  a  few  examples  had  un- 
happily to  be  made. 

L^vis,  in  the  meantime,  kept  a  considerable  army  in 
garrison  between  Jacques  Cartier  and  Montreal,  while 
his  Indians  and  Rangers  lurked  continually  in  the 
actual  neighbourhood  of  Quebec.  Occasional  strag- 
glers were  cut  oflf,  and  wood-cutting,  one  of  the  most 
vital  operations  of  the  winter,  had  to  be  carried  on 
under  armed  escorts.  There  were  no  horses  left,  and 
continual  processions  of  sleighs,  dragged  by  soldiers 
and  loaded  with  cord  wood,  went  backwards  and  for- 
wards over  the  four  miles  between  the  city  and  the 
forest  of  Saint  Foy. 

357 


INCREASING  SICKNESS 


[1759 


*.  • 


^  I 


/     i 


»^ 


/! 


The  defences  of  Quebec  on  the  west  side  were 
feeble,  and  the  frozen  ground  effectually  prevented 
any  intrenching  work  being  done  outside  the  wa?ls. 
Murray  fortified  and  occupied  with  a  strong  guarti, 
constantly  relieved,  the  churches  of  Saint  Foy,  three 
miles,  and  Lorette,  twelve  miles  distant,  in  the  direc- 
tion of  Montreal.  This  prevented  all  danger  of  a 
surprise  at  any  rate,  and  the  air  was  thick  with 
rumours  that  L^vis,  with  10,000  to  15,000  men,  was 
meditating  an  assault.  The  French  commander  had, 
indeed,  plenty  of  men,  but  very  little  food  for  them, 
and  it  taxed  all  the  resources  of  Bigot,  who  was  at 
Montreal,  to  find  them  a  bare  sustenance. 

The  chill  of  October  gave  way  to  the  cold  of 
November,  and  as  Christmas  approached  the  full 
rigour  of  the  Canadian  winter  struck  the  thinly  clad, 
ill-fed  troops  with  dire  effect.  Frost-bitten  hands 
and  cheeks  and  feet  was  the  common  lot  of  the 
sentries  on  the  numerous  guards  which  it  was 
necessary  to  post  in  every  quarter  of  the  city  and  its 
outskirts.  The  officers,  says  Knox,  who  could,  of 
course,  procure  wraps,  became  unrecognisable  to  each 
other,  as,  buried  in  rugs  and  furs,  they  went  about 
their  business  at  a  run,  and  too  fast  to  admit  of  the 
ordinary  salutation  that  courtesy  demands.  But  frost- 
bite gave  way  to  even  yet  more  serious  evils,  and  the 
sick  list  lengthened  with  formidable  rapidity.  Ex- 
posure and  an  unalleviated  diet  of  salt  meat  played 
havoc  with  the  men  of  all  ranks.  On  Christmas  Day 
the  garrison  had  sunk,  from  the  various  drains  upon 
it,  to  6,400  men,  1,400  of  whom  were  in  hospital, 
and  it  became  infinitely  worse  later  on.  Tho  spirits 
of  the  troops  were  excellent,  but  discipline  relaxed 
under  the  continual  privation  without  the  stimulus  of 

358 


Mil 


mmm 


[1759 

le  were 
evented 
le  wa?ls. 
guarci, 
>y,  three 
le  direc- 
tor of  a 
ck  with 
len,  was 
der  had, 
or  them, 
0  was  at 

cold  of 
the  fuU 
nly  clad, 
Q  hands 
of  the 
it  was 
Y  and  its 
sould,  of 
B  to  each 
at  about 
it  of  the 
Jut  f rost- 
,  and  the 
Lty.  Ex- 
it played 
mas  Day 
bins  upon 
hospital, 
vd  spirits 
)  relaxed 
mulus  of 


1760] 


WINTER  HARDSHIPS 


fighting,  and  aided  somewhat  by  the  fact  that  liquor 
was  the  only  thing  in  the  city  that  was  not  scarce. 
Beleaguered  as  effectually  by  nature  as  if  hemmed  in 
by  armed  hosts,  and  perched  on  its  white  throne,  all 
glittering  in  the  bright  but  impotent  sunshine  of  a 
Canadian  winter,  the  captured  city,  with  its  roofless 
churches  and  shattered  houses,  was  in  a  sorry  plight. 
The  inhabitants,  whose  hours  of  going  out  and  of 
coming  in,  Murray,  in  his  critical  position,  was  com- 
pelled-to  regulate,  suffered  even  more  than  the  soldiers, 
for  most  of  them  had  lost  their  all.     Punishments  of 
British  soldiers  for  theft  or  outrage  or  infringement  of 
rules  were  prompt  and  seem  savage  enough  too,  for  one 
reads  again  and  again  of  1,000  lashes  sometimes  "  re- 
duced to  300  on  account  of  the  severity  of  the  weather." 
Now  we  hear  of  a  Frenchman  executed  for  inciting 
to  desertion,  and  now  of  two  British  soldiers  con- 
demned to  death  for  robbery:   but  the  sentence  is 
mitigated  to  one  only,  upon  which  we  are  shown  a 
grim  spectacle  of  the  culprits  throwing  dice  for  death 
or  freedom,  and  learn  that  eleven  was  the  winning 
throw.    Two  women  are  flogged  through  the  town  for 
selling  liquor  without  leave,  and  an  officer  and  forty 
men  blown  up  in  an  abandoned  French  ship  which 
they  were  scuttling.     Occasional  skirmishes  between 
New  England   Bangers  under  Captain  Hazen  and 
French  guerillas  on  the  south  shore  of  the  frozen  river 
break  the  monotony  of  suffering  and  sickness.    Yau- 
dreuil  surpasses  himself  in  the  reports  he  sends  down 
the  river.    "  The  Grand  Monarch,"  he  assures  the  cre- 
dulous Canadians,  "has  sunk,  burned  and  destroyed 
the  greatest  fleet  that  ever  England  put  to  sea  ;  made 
an  entire  conquest  of  Ireland,  and  put  all  the  troops 
and  natives  who  were  in  arms  to  the  sword ;  so  that 

359 


.  ■*  . , 


i 


.:f.* 


-*-. 


m 


\ii 


♦ 


m\ 


hi 


i'i^l^ 


'iff 


HEAVY  MORTALITY 


[1760 


the  next  ship  will  certainly  bring  us  an  account  of 
a  peace  being  concluded.  Quebec  will  be  restored, 
and  Canada  once  more  flourish  under  a  French 
government." 

But  the  incidents  of  this  somewhat  unique  ex- 
perience of  a  British  army,  isolated  in  the  interior  of 
a  hostile  country  under  a  semi-arctic  winter,  excellent 
reading  as  they  are  in  the  letters  of  those  who 
suffered  or  laughed  at  them,  must  be  treated  with 
scant  notice  here.  Sickness  and  suffering,  though 
cheerfully  borne,  was  unhappily  the  chief  feature 
of  this  bitter  winter,  and  that  most  of  it  was  due 
to  the  neglect  of  a  department  which,  with  the  ex- 
perience of  Louisbourg  and  Halifax,  had  no  excuse, 
is  sad  to  think  of.  By  Christmas  150  soldiers  had 
died  ;  in  the  next  two  months  200  more  succumbed, 
and  by  the  end  of  April  the  grand  total  was  no  less 
than  650,  nearly  all  victims  of  scurvy,  dysentery,  and 
fever.  Most  of  the  bodies  lay  above  groun  ,  and 
frozen  stiff,  awaiting  burial  till  graves  could  be  dug. 
Murray's  effective  force  dropped  to  about  3,000  men, 
while  the  strangest  part  of  the  whole  business  is, 
that  out  of  600  British  women  attached  to  the  army, 
not  a  single  one  died,  and  scarcely  any  sickened  ! 

Point  L^vis  church,  now  only  a  mile  across  the 
frozen  river,  had  been  fortified  and  garrisoned,  and  had 
already  once  repulsed  the  French  advanced  parties. 
St.  Foy  and  Lorette  too  had  been  strengthened,  and 
Levis'  rangers,  skirmishing  for  food  and  intelligence, 
had  been  punished  there  on  more  than  one  occasion. 
Spies  and  news-bearers  went  freely  backwards  and 
forwards.  As  the  winter  waned,  Murray  heard  that 
L^vis  was  of  a  certainty  coming  to  assault  the  city, 
that  his  army  had  been  supplied  with  scaling  ladders, 

360 


[1760 

3unt  of 
)stored, 
French 


ue  ex- 
Brior  of 
i:cellent 
}e  who 
id  with 
though 
feature 
'as  due 
}he  ex- 
excuse, 
»rs  had 
limbed, 
Qo  less 
ry,  and 
L  ,  and 
)e  dug. 
10  men, 
less  is, 
» army, 
d! 

>ss  the 
nd  had 
)arties. 
)d,  and 
igence, 
casion. 
is  and 
d  that 
e  city, 
idders. 


1760]  LEVIS  MOVES 

and  was  being  exercised  in  their  use  upon  the  church 
walls  of  Montreal,  to  the  great  injury  of  the  men's 
limbs  and  the  great  diversion  of  the  ladies,  who,  from 
all  accounts,  were  even  less  depressed  than  their 
sisters  of  Quebec.  Every  one,  however,  felt  that  the 
crisis  would  be  solved  by  sea,  rather  than  by  land,  and 
the  fleet  which  first  ascended  the  St.  Lawrence  in  the 
spring  would  be  the  determining  factor  in  the  posses- 
sion of  Quebec.  February  passed  away,  and  with 
March  the  fierce  cold  of  midwinter  relaxed.  But  it 
was  not  till  April  that  the  melting  ice  and  snows  in 
the  milder  regions  of  Upper  Canada  began  the  great 
upheaval  of  the  frozen  surface  of  the  St.  Lawrence 
w^hich  marks  the  close  of  winter. 

L^vis  now  began  to  move.  Difficulties  of  transport 
without  horses  had  compelled  him  to  relinquish  all 
thoughts  of  a  winter  attack  upon  the  town.  There 
were  still  the  French  ships  in  the  upper  river,  which, 
it  will  be  remembered,  had  retired  up  the  tributaries 
the  preceding  summer  before  Saunders'  fleet,  and 
upon  these  he  depended  when  the  ice  had  broken  to 
descend  upon  Quebec.  Full  accounts  of  the  sickness 
of  the  British  garrison  and  its  dwindling  numbers 
had  been  brought  to  Montreal.  And  Yaudreuil, 
whose  arithmetic  always  tallied  with  his  wishes  or 
his  vanity,  subjected  the  English  forces  to  the  process 
of  division,  weak  as  they  truly  were,  instead  of 
multiplying  them  by  three,  which  was  his  usual 
custom  after  either  victory  or  defeat.  He  was 
naturally  anxious  that  every  effort  should  be  made  to 
recover  the  capital,  and  it  was  not  his  part  to  lead 
the  troops  into  the  deadly  breach. 

On  the  18th  of  April  the  British  learnt  definitely 
that  they  were  to  be  attacked,  with  "  the  whole  force 

361 


! 


*  i> 


■*.^ 


♦  • 


n 


uf 


!!■ 


Ml 


\  \ 


■';        i 


t  ■; 


Ifv. 


HP 


•^#-. 


APPROACH  OP  THE  FRENCH   [1760 

of  Canada" — that  two  months'  provisions  and  a 
supply  of  brandy  for  the  regular  troops  had  been 
especially  stored  for  this  supreme  efiPort,  and  that 
the  French  ships  were  to  co-operate.  On  the  21st, 
Murray  ordered  all  Canadians,  except  nuns,  out 
of  the  town  at  three  days'  notice,  giving  them  fa- 
cilities, however,  for  storing  and  guarding  their 
property.  Full  sympathy  was  felt  for  these  poor 
people,  but  3,000  British  soldiers,  with  as  many 
invalids  behind  them,  stood  face  to  face  with  such 
strength  as  all  Canada,  with  a  brave  and  resourceful 
general,  could  command,  and  there  was  no  room  for 
sentiment.  The  fugitives,  as  they  left  the  city,  up- 
braided the  English  for  breaking  the  conditions  of 
the  capitulation,  assuring  them  that  the  approach  of 
L^vis  was  a  false  alarm  which,  if  their  information  had 
been  trusted  instead  of  that  of  scouts,  deserters  and 
spies,  would  be  readily  recognised.  The  sequel  showed 
the  value  and  the  justice  of  such  worthless  recrimina- 
tions. Six  days  afterwards,  L^vis,  with  an  army  of 
over  7,000  men,  arrived  in  front  of  the  British  out- 
posts at  Lorette.  He  had  reached  Pointe  aux  Trembles, 
close  to  Jacques  Cartier,  on  the  26th,  with  his  ships, 
supplies  and  troops.  Thence,  despatching  his  vessels 
down  the  river,  he  had  marched  by  an  inland  route, 
crossed  the  stream  of  Cap  Rouge  some  miles  above 
its  mouth,  and  appeared  before  Lorette,  the  English 
outposts  at  the  same  time  falling  back  upon  St.  Foy. 
This  night  the  most  appalling  thunderstorm  that 
had  been  known  for  vears  lit  up  a  gloomy  prospect 
of  melting  snow  and  thawing  ice-fields  and  dripping 
woods.  Above  it  all,  in  the  glare  of  the  lightning 
flashes,  the  battered  towers  and  gables  of  the  long- 
harassed  city  rose  above  the  surging  river,  still  gurg- 

362 


L^^iii^fliMM 


[1760 

and  a 
d  been 
id  that 
le  21st, 
IS,    out 
lem  fa- 
their 
ie  poor 
many 
}h  such 
lurceful 
om  for 
ity,  up- 
ions  of 
)ach  of 
ion  had 
3rs  and 
3howed 
rimina- 
irmy  of 
ih  out- 
embles, 
3  ships, 
vessels 
route, 
above 
Snglish 
It.  Foy. 
tn  that 
rospect 
ripping 
htning 
B  long- 
1  gurg- 


1760] 


A  TIMELY  WARNING 


ling  and  choking  with  the  fragments  of  its  wintry 
load.  When  the  thunder  ceased,  a  tempest  of  unusual 
fury  burst  from  the  south-west.  Waves,  winds  and 
ice-floes  raged  together  in  furious  combat  from  Cap 
Rouge  to  Point  L^vis,  and  from  Point  L^vis  across  to 
the  island  of  Orleans  and  the  shallow  strands  of 
Beauport,  while  the  Montmorency  flung  over  its  dark 
cliff  into  the  chaos  below  the  foaming  waters  of  a 
hundred  fresh-loosened  streams.  In  the  dark  hours 
of  this  wild  night  a  French  soldier  was  drifting  d  jwn 
the  St.  Lawrence  upon  an  ice-floe,  expecting  every 
moment  to  be  his  last.  He  was  whirled  along  past 
the  cliffs  which  Wolfe  had  climbed,  past  Cape 
Diamond  and  Point  L^vis,  and  onwards  to  the  island 
of  Orleans.  Then  the  swift  tide  turned  and  washed 
him  back,  by  a  piece  of  good  fortune,  to  where  the  only 
British  ship,  the  Racehorse  sloop,  that  had  wintered 
in  the  river,  was  anchored  in  the  slacker  water  below 
the  town.  Here,  by  almost  a  miracle,  he  was  seen 
and  rescued,  more  dead  than  alive.  It  was  two  hours 
before  the  exhausted  Frenchman  could  give  an  ac- 
count of  himself,  which  was  to  the  effect  that  he 
belonged  to  Levis'  army,  had  been  upset  with  others 
in  a  boat,  and  had  succeeded  with  infinite  difficulty  in 
scrambling  on  to  the  ice-floe  on  which  he  was  found. 
He  then  informed  his  rescuers  that  L^vis  was  at  that 
moment  coming  on  with  12,000  men  against  the  city. 
It  was  about  four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  but  the 
rescued  man  was  carried  without  delay  in  a  ham- 
mock up  the  steep  streets  to  Murray's  quarters,  where 
he  repeated  his  story.  Murray  was  anticipating  an 
attack,  but  hardly  so  soon,  and  the  information  so 
strangely  fished  up  from  the  flood  and  darkness, 
proved  of  vital  import. 

363 


i; 


• 


•f  j 


■j^L 


If>, 


VAUDREUIL'S  CONVENTIONS    [1760 

It  was,  moreover,  entirely  correct.  All  through 
that  night  the  brp.ve  L^vis,  amid  storm  and  darkness, 
through  melting  snow  wreaths  and  swollen  rivulets, 
was  leading  the  gathered  remnants  of  the  French 
forces  to  strike  one  last  blow  for  the  colony.  In- 
deed, had  it  not  been  for  the  lightning,  he  himself 
declares,  all  progress  would  have  been  impossible. 
He  had  not  12,000  men,  but  he  had  nearly  8,000  by 
his  own  statement,  some  4,000  of  whom  were 
regulars  of  the  veteran  battalions  that  had  done 
such  yeoman  service  for  Canada  during  the  five 
years  of  war.  They  were  smarting  from  the  defeat 
of  September,  though  not  all  had  been  in  it,  and 
thirsting  for  revenge.  Vaudreuil,  whose  imagina- 
tion was  invaluable  to  his  cause,  had  assured  them 
that  the  British  garrison  were  destroyed  by  disease, 
and  that  a  French  fleet  would  assuredly  sail  up  the 
St.  Lawrence  the  moment  navigation  opened. 
Deliberate  fabrication  seems  to  be  as  valuable  to-day 
with  a  brave  and  ignorant  army  to  work  upon  as  it 
was  in  the  days  of  Vaudreuil. 

As  regards  the  British  garrison,  he  was  not  so  wide 
of  the  mark  as  usual,  and  on  the  morning  of  the  27th, 
Murray  mustered  them.  There  were  rather  over 
3,000  men  fit  for  duty,  and  Sergeant  Johnson,  whose 
account  of  the  siege  is  a  notable  if  rough-and-ready 
contribution,  describes  them  as  "  scorbutic  skeletons." 

For  the  last  few  days  Murray  had  been  trying  to 
raise  intrenchments  on  the  Plains  of  Abraham,  before 
the  city  walls,  without  much  avail.  But  though  a 
vast  quantity  of  fascines  and  piquets  had  been  cut 
and  the  ubiquitous  and  invaluable  MacKellar  was 
there  as  chief  engineer,  the  still  frozen  ground  de- 
feated their  best  efforts.     MacKellar,  from  the  early 

364 


! 


it^ 


[1760 

hrough 
rkness, 
ivulets, 
French 
y.     In- 
limself 
ossible. 
000  by 
were 
done 
le   five 
defeat 
it,  and 
lagina- 
L  them 
Lisease, 
up  the 
pened. 
to-day 
n  as  it 

o  wide 
e27th, 
r  over 
whose 
-ready 
Btons." 
ing  to 
before 
ugh  a 
3n  cut 
.r  was 
id  de- 
early 


1760]  RECONNAISSANCE  BY  MURRAY 

days  of  Braddock,  seems  to  have  represented  in  his 
own  person  everything  that  was  trustworthy  in  the 
scientific  branch.  Generals  came  and  went,  but 
MacKellar  was  always  there.  Whether  a  fort  was 
to  be  built,  or  trenches  to  be  opened,  or  a  scientific 
opinion  wanted,  so  far  as  one  man  could  supply  the 
need  in  so  many  quarters,  it  was  always  MacKellar, 
and  it  may  be  noted  as  significant  that  he  was  still 
only  a  major.  On  the  27th,  Murray  marched  out 
half  his  army  to  feel  the  enemy  and  cover  the 
retreat  of  his  outposts.  He  proceeded  to  St.  Foy, 
where  the  plateau,  extending  westward  from  the 
Plains  of  Abraham,  terminates  in  a  slope,  and  there, 
from  the  ridge  indicated,  where  stood  the  church  and 
several  houses,  he  saw  the  French  clustering  thick 
beyond  the  marshes  and  at  the  edge  of  the  woods. 
This  movement  was  only  intended  as  a  reconnaissance 
in  force,  so,  having  achieved  what  he  wanted,  he  re- 
turned to  Quebec,  and  prepared  for  more  serious 
action.  There  has  been  much  discussion  as  to  what 
Murray  should  now  have  done.  Theoretically,  3,000 
men,  supported  by  a  number  of  semi-invalids  who 
could  only  contribute  some  assistance  behind  walls, 
ought  not  to  leave  a  fortified  town,  whose  retention 
was  vital,  to  attack  much  more  than  twice  their 
number  in  the  open  field. 

It  has  been  said  that  Murray,  who  was  young  and 
ardent,  wished  to  emulate  the  fame  of  Wolfe,  and  to 
gratify  at  the  same  time  the  perhaps  overweening 
confidence  of  his  troops,  who  had  come  to  think 
themselves  irresistible.  On  the  other  hand,  the  de- 
fences of  the  town  were  bad  on  that  side,  and  exter- 
nal intrenchments  were  impossible.  He  thought 
that  this  fact,  coupled  with  the  temper  of  his  troops, 

365 


I  * 


\ 


*n 


M 


'.I  it 


w 


I 


MURRAY  OFFERS  BATTLE     [1760 

required  aggressive  rather  than  defensive  tactics. 
Rightly  or  wrongly,  however,  he  marched  out  upon 
the  following  day  with  every  available  soldier  and  a 
hundred  eager  volunteers  from  the  sutlers  and  super- 
numeraries, 3,100  in  all,  to  give  battle  to  L^vis. 

No  climatic  conditions  in  any  country  or  at  any 
season  are  more  uncomfortable  than  those  attending 
the  break-up  of  a  Canadian  winter.  The  atmosphere 
is  by  turns  bitterly  cold  and  unpleasantly  warm  ;  and 
the  ground,  hard  as  iron  beneath,  is  covered  with 
standing  water  and  melting  snow.  The  still  naked 
woods  drip  by  day  and  freeze  by  night,  while  the 
recently  exposed  pastures  brown,  parched  and  hungry, 
await  the  genial  touch  of  spring. 

Murray's  men,  however,  marched  cheerily  through 
it  all,  and  crossing  the  memorable  ground  on  which 
in  September  they  had  so  nobly  proved  their  prowess, 
approached  the  French  position.  Burton,  who  had 
been  conspicuous  through  the  whole  war,  commanded 
the  right,  consisting  of  the  15th,  48th,  58th,  and 
second  battalion  of  the  60th.  Fraser  had  the  left» 
with-  the  28th,  43rd,  47th,  and  his  own  regiment, 
the  78th  Highlanders.  The  reserve,  consisting  of 
the  35th  and  the  third  battalion  of  the  60th,  was 
commanded  by  Colonel  Young,  of  the  Royal  Ameri- 
cans, who  had  been  at  Fort  "William  Henry.  On  the 
right  flank  were  the  light  infantry ;  on  the  left. 
Rangers  and  volunteers.  Some  twenty  guns  went 
with  them,  dragged,  for  lack  of  horses,  through  the 
mud  and  slush  by  some  400  men.  The  French  right 
touched  the  blockhouses,  which  stood  near  the  Ansa 
du  Foulon,  where  Wolfe  had  landed.  The  left  of 
their  advance  line  spread  across  the  ridge,  and 
reached  the  top  of  the  slope  beyond,  where  stood 

366 


[1760 

tactics, 
t  upon 
and  a 
I  super- 
s. 

at  any- 
tending 
osphere 
m  ;  and 
3d  with 
1  naked 
hile  the 
hungry, 

through 
Q  which 
>rowes8, 
rho  had 
manded 
Eth,  and 
the  left, 
)giment, 
iting    of 
Ith,  was 
Ameri- 
On  the 
:he   left, 
ns  went 
ugh  the 
ch  right 
;he  Ansa 
>  left  of 
ige,    &nd 
re  stood 


1760] 


BATTLE  OF  ST.  FOY 


a  farmhouse  and  a  windmill,  while  in  the  rear,  the 
main  forces  of  the  French  were  coming  rapidly  up 
from  Sillery  and  St.  Foy. 

The  French  vanguard  had  just  begun  to  intrench 
themselves,  and  the  bulk  of  their  army  were  hardly 
in  position  when  Murray  thought  the  hour  had  come 
to  strike.    The  guns,  which  were  scattered  between  the 
battalions,  opened  fire  with  considerable  effect,  while 
the  light  infantry  on  the  right  and  the  Rangers  on 
the  left,  under  Dalling  and  Hazen  respectively,  dashed 
forward  on  the  extremities  of  the  French  vanguard, 
and  drove  them  from  their  half-finished  redoubts, 
the  centre  retiring  with  them  on  the  main  column. 
But  the   latter  was   immensely  strong,  and  hurled 
forward   heavy   bodies  of   good    troops,  who  drove 
the  over-confident  British  light  infantry  back  in  much 
confusion,  to  the  detriment  of  the  ranks  who  were 
coming  up  behind.     There  was  some  sharp  fighting 
around  the  buildings  upon  the  right  and  left.  Most  of 
them  were  taken  and  retaken  more  than  once.     The 
British  supports  were  ordered  up,  and  the  whole  line 
pressed  too  far  forward  between  the  horns  of  the  out- 
numbering and  outflanking  French.    There  was  fierce 
and,  for  a  time,  successful  fighting  on  the  British 
side  ;  but  their  very  ardour  injured   them,  as  both 
guns  and  men  found  themselves  drawn  down  into 
low  ground,  where  the  snow  and  slush  was  knee-deep 
and  the  guns  could  not  be  moved.     On  both  sides 
they  encountered  not  only  a  fianking  fire,  but  one 
greatly  helped  by  the  cover  of  extending  woods.    The 
light  infantry  were  completely  put  out  of  action,  and 
every  officer  killed  or  wounded.     The  French  now 
turned  all  their  attention  to  the  British  flanks  in  des- 
perate efforts  to  get  round  behind  them  and  cut  them 

367 


* 


" 


m 


REPULSE  OP  THE  BRITISH    [1750 

off  from  the  city.  They  had  by  this  time,  according 
to  Murray,  10,000  men  in  the  field,  and  the  3,000 
"  scorbutic  skeletons,"  now  sadly  diminished  even 
from  that  scant  total,  were  at  length  forced  to  fall 
back.  The  guns  were  hopelessly  mired,  and  had  to 
be  abandoned ;  but  the  retreat  was  conducted  in 
good  order,  and  there  was  no  attempt  at  pursuit. 
Some  of  the  troops,  on  hearing  the  order  to  fall  back, 
to  which  they  were  so  long  unaccustomed,  shouted 
out  in  indignation,  "  D — n  it !  what  is  falling  back  but 
retreating  ? "  The  battle  had  not  lasted  two  hours, 
but  it  had  been  an  unusually  bloody  one.  Murray's 
loss  was  over  1,100  men,  more  than  a  third  of  his 
force ;  while  that  of  the  French  was  estimated  at 
various  figures  between  800  and  2,000. 

No  time  was  now  lost  in  preparing  to  defend  the 
city,  for  the  position  was  critical.  Every  one  who  could 
stir  a  hand  was  set  to  some  sort  of  work,  the  women 
to  cooking,  and  the  convalescents  to  filling  sand-bags. 
Embrasures  were  made  and  platforms  erected  on 
the  walls  for  mounting  cannon.  Officers  and  men 
worked  like  horses,  the  former,  with  their  coats  off, 
helping  to  drag  the  guns  up  the  steep  streets  and 
hoist  them  into  position. 

For  a  moment  there  had  been  faint  signs  of  de- 
moralization in  the  shape  of  drunkenness ;  but  Mur- 
ray crushed  the  tendency  with  vigour  and  by  exem- 
plary punidhment,  and,  on  his  own  part,  showed  un- 
bounded energy  in  this  hour  of  trial.  The  odds 
would  seem  great,  but  there  was  no  failing  of  either 
courage  or  cheerfulness  on  the  part  of  a  garrison 
now  reduced  to  2,400  effective  men,  with  nothing 
but  some  indifferent  defences  between  them  and 
four  times  their  number  of  reinvi^orated   French- 

368 


:     [1750 

ccording 
he  3,000 
led  even 
id  to  fall 
1  had  to 
acted   in 

pursuit, 
'all  back, 

shouted 
back  but 
70  hours, 
Murray's 
rd  of  his 
nated  at 

)fend  the 
v^ho  could 
B  women 
md-bags. 
ected  on 
^nd  men 
3oats  off, 
'eets  and 

as  of  de- 
but Mur- 
by  exem- 
3wed  un- 
^he  odds 
of  either 
garrison 

nothing 
hem  and 

French- 


1760]  THE  FRENCH  BEFORE  THE  CITY 

men.  But  Murray  had  at  least  no  lack  of  guns,  and 
these  were  being  rapidly  massed  along  the  western 
walls.  It  made  Sergeant  Johnson's  heart  ache,  and 
outraged  his  sense  of  military  propriety  to  see  the  exer- 
tions of  the  officers.  "  None  but  those  who  were  pre- 
sent," says  the  worthy  serjeant,  "  can  imagine  the  grief 
of  heart  the  soldiers  felt  to  see  their  officers  yoked 
in  harness,  dragging  up  cannon  from  the  lower  town, 
and  working  at  the  batteries  with  pick  and  spade." 

The  French  were  busy  entrenching  themselves 
scarce  a  thousand  yards  from  the  walls,  and  De  Bour- 
lamaque,  though  severely  wounded,  was  in  charge  of 
the  operations.  Their  seven  or  eight  vessels  had,  in 
the  meantime,  dropped  down  to  the  Anse  de  Foulon. 
Stores  of  all  kinds  were  being  discharged  and  carried 
up  the  cliffs.  The  French,  fortunately  for  Murray, 
were  weak  in  artillery,  and  their  guns  were  dis- 
mounted by  the  accurate  and  rapid  fire  of  the  British 
almost  as  fast  as  they  could  be  set  up.  With  such  a 
great  numerical  advantage,  an  assault  was  the  nat- 
ural proceeding  for  L^vis  to  take,  and  one  was  hourly 
expected.  "  Let  them  come,"  said  the  men ;  "  they 
will  catch  a  Tartar." 

Even  now  friendly  amenities  and  banter  passed 
between  the  opposing  generals,  L^vis  sent  Murray 
a  present  of  spruce-pine  tops  for  making  spruce 
beer,  and  some  partridges ;  while  Murray  sent  L^vis 
in  return  a  Cheshire  cheese.  The  French  leader 
offered  to  back  himself  to  capture  the  city  for  £500. 
Murray  replied  that  he  would  not  rob  de  L^vis  of 
his  money,  as  he  felt  quite  convinced  that  he  would 
have  the  pleasure  of  shipping  him  and  his  whole 
army  back  to  Europe  in  the  summer  in  English 
bottoms. 

369  B  B 


1^:  ■ 


4 


( 


I 


BELIEF 


[1760 


<;, 


If' 


Two  days  after  the  battle  Murray  had  sent  the 
Racehorse  sloop,  the  solitary  ship  before  mentioned, 
off  to  Halifax,  bearing  the  news  of  his  critical  situa- 
tion to  Admiral  Colville,  who  with  a  strong  fleet  was 
cruising  in  those  seas.  Should  English  ships  get  up 
to  Quebec,  it  was  all  over  with  L^vis,  for  if  he  was 
still  outside  the  city,  he  would  have  no  recourse  but 
in  retreat.  If  a  French  squadron,  on  the  other  hand, 
should  be  first  in  the  river,  the  work  of  Wolfe  would 
be  undone.  The  former  was,  of  course,  far  the  most 
likely,  but  the  French  troops  and  Canadians  were 
buoyed  up  by  statements  to  the  contrary.  For 
nine  days  the  British  batteries  poured  shot  and  shell 
upon  the  French,  who,  busy  with  their  intrench- 
ments,  scarcely  replied.  The  air  was  thick  with  ru- 
mours that  a  fleet  was  ascending  the  river,  and  signals 
upon  the  mountains  to  the  eastward  appeared  to  the 
garrison  to  give  good  grounds  for  them  ;  but  whose 
fleet  was  it !  A  French  sloop  had  run  down  past  the 
batteries  on  the  4th.  On  the  8th  she  was  forging 
back  again  before  a  fresh  south-east  wind.  "  Why 
don't  you  stop  and  pilot  up  your  fleet  ?  "  the  English 
shouted  at  her  as  she  went  by.  But  she  took  no 
notice,  and  made  up  the  river  to  her  consorts  by  the 
Anse  du  Foulon.  The  next  morning.  May  9th,  the 
reason  of  the  Frenchman's  haste  was  evident,  for  a 
ship  of  war  sailed  into  the  basin.  There  was  a  brief 
moment  of  doubt  and  suspense  as  to  the  vital  ques- 
tion of  her  nationality.  Presently,  however,  her 
colours  ran  up.  They  were  those  of  Britain,  for  she 
was  the  frigate  Lowestoft  "The  gladness  of  the 
garrison,"  says  honest  Knox,"  is  not  to  be  expressed. 
Both  officers  and  men  mounted  the  parapets  in  the 
face  of  the  enemy,  and  huzzaed  with  their  hats  in 

370 


>' 


^in^ 


[1760 

ent  the 
utioned, 
il  situa- 
[eet  was 
1  get  up 

he  was 
irse  but 
er  hand, 
ie  would 
he  most 
ns  were 
y.      For 
knd  shell 
ntrench- 
with  ru- 
d  signals 
3d  to  the 
lit  whose 
past  the 

forging 

"Why 

3  English 

took  no 
ts  by  the 

9th,  the 
3nt,  for  a 
as  a  brief 
ital  ques- 
ever,  her 
D,  for  she 
)s  of  the 
sxpressed. 
ets  in  the 
ir  hats  in 


1760]  ARRIVAL  OF  BRITISH  SHIPS     , 

the  air  for  fully  an  hour."  Captain  Deane,  having 
saluted  with  twenty-one  guns,  came  ashore  in  his 
barge,  and  dispelled  all  doubts  with  the  glorious  news 
that  a  British  fleet  was  ascending  the  river.  L^vis, 
however,  had  either  not  received  the  information  or 
disbelieved  it.  For  though  an  immediate  assault  was 
his  only  hope,  he  went  on  with  his  approaches  as  if 
the  whole  summer  lay  before  him,  throwing  but  a 
feeble  fire  against  the  British  works.  The  moment  a 
British  squadron,  of  sufficient  strength  merely  to  de- 
stroy his  handful  of  small  vessels,  arrived,  his  position 
was  untenable,  for  he  would  have  no  means  of  feeding 
his  already  hungry  army ;  and  on  the  night  of  the 
15th  that  moment  arrived.  ' 

It  was  the  battleship  Vangiuird  and  the  frigate 
Diana  that  had  sailed  in ;  and  on  the  following 
morning  the  latter,  together  with  the  Lowestoft, 
favoured  by  a  fresh  breeze  from  the  east,  sailed 
past  the  town  and  fell  upon  Levis'  ships.  These 
were  two  frigates  and  four  smaller  vessels,  com- 
manded by  Vauquelin,  the  brave  officer  who  had 
fought  his  ship  so  well  at  the  siege  of  Louisbourg, 
then  plugged  her  up  and  sailed  through  the  British 
fleet  for  France.  Here,  too,  he  fought  his  small 
ships  most  bravely,  but  one  by  one  they  were  de- 
stroyed, and  he  himself  was  ultimately  taken 
prisoner. 

The  French  had  nothing  for  it  now  but  to  retreat, 
and  L^vis  lost  no  time.  The  Vanguard  swung  out 
in  the  river  off  Sillery,  laid  her  broadside  to  the 
French  trenches,  and  enfiladed  them  from  the  south. 
The  enthusiastic  garrison,  who,  by  working  day  and 
night,  had  got  140  guns  into  position,  opened  the 
most  tremendous  cannonade,  say  their  officers,  that 

371 


♦ 


i 


' ' 


V 


IM 


H 


^v 


vtik'' 


THE  SIEGE  RAISED 


[1760 


they  had  ever  heard.  But  the  retreat  had  ah*eady 
begun  ;  and  the  gunners,  elevating  their  pieces,  sent 
a  storm  of  balls  ricochetting  and  bounding  along  the 
Plains  of  Abraham  upon  the  heels  of  the  fast-vanish- 
ing French,  who  left  behind  them  a  long  tail  of  dead 
and  wounded  as  a  result  of  the  fortnight's  siege, 
besides  all  their  guns  and  stores.  The  Canadian 
irregulars,  of  course,  deserted  the  retreating  army, 
which  reached  Montreal  at  the  end  of  May  in  a  sad 
state  of  depression.  There  Vaudreuil  and  L^vis  had 
to  concoct  such  plans  as  they  were  able  to  meet  the 
overwhelming  forces  that  wore  even  then  gathering 
to  move  against  the  doomed  colony.  Trois  Rivieres 
(Three  Rivers)  was  the  third  town  in  Canada,  lying 
about  midway  between  Quebec  and  Montreal.  The 
whole  country  east  of  that  point  was  now  in  British 
hands ;  the  people  had  sworn  allegiance  (the  priest- 
hood included)  to  King  George,  and  had  returned 
with  relief,  if  not  with  actual  joy,  to  their  neglected 
and  often  wasted  homes.  From  Three  Rivers  up 
to  Montreal,  and  from  Montreal  on  to  the  rapids, 
beyond  which  the  En^'^'.jh  dominated  Lake  Ontario, 
was  practically  all  that  was  left  of  Canada  to  the 
French  king.  The  capture  of  Montreal  would  com- 
plete the  business,  and  to  this  end  Amherst,  by  Pitt's 
instructions,  and  in  full  accordance  with  his  own 
ardour,  bent  all  his  energies.  Once  more,  and  for 
the  last  time,  three  movements  were  planned  on 
Canada,  and  it  was  hardly  possible  that  what  was 
left  her  could  escape  being  crushed  between  them 
as  in  a  vice.  Murray,  his  small  veteran  army  in- 
creasing daily  in  strength  from  returning  health, 
carried  and  supported  along  an  open  waterway  by 
an  excellent  fleet,  had  the  easiest  task  of  all.     Am- 

372 


F 


[1760 

already 
ces,  sent 
long  the 
;-vanish- 

of  dead 

s  siege, 
Canadian 
g  army, 
in  a  sad 
i^vis  had 
neet  the 
athering 
Rivieres 
da,  lying 
lal.  The 
a  British 
le  priest- 
returned 
leglected 
ivers  up 
e  rapids, 
Ontario, 
a  to  the 
uld  com- 
by  Pitt's 
his  own 

and  for 
mned  on 
srhat  was 
aen  them 
army  in- 
^  health, 
>rway  by 
ill.     Am- 


1760]  THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  END 

herst  himself,  with  nearly  11,000  men,  was  mustering 
at  Oswego  and  he  was  to  descend  the  St.  Lawrence 
to  Montreal,   the    general    rendezvous,    where    the 
heart  of  Canada  still  beat  defiantly,  if  with  waning 
vigour.     The  physical  difficulties  here  were  more  for- 
midable than  any  which  L^vis  was  likely  to  contrive. 
Amherst  had  no  full  knowledge  of  the  rapids  of  the 
St.  Lawrence.     He  counted  them  as  an  obstacle,  but 
he  hardly  realized  their  fury.     As  for  the  third  at- 
tack, it  is  needless  to  say  it  was  from  Lake  Cham- 
plain,  whose  forts  at  Crown  Point  and  Ticonderoga 
now  made  an  admirable  base  for  the  forcing  of  the 
passage  of  the  Richelieu  at  lie  aux  Noix.     Colonel 
and  Brigadier  Haviland  was  given  the  conunand  of 
this  enterprise,  and  a  force  of  only  3,500  men,  so 
greatly  had  the  events  of  the  last  year  altered  the 
scheme    of    Canadian    defence    and    reduced    the 
strength  of   its   resistance.      L^vis   had  now  about 
8,000  troops  of  various  sorts  at  his  disposal,  besides 
Indians,  with  a  base  at  Montreal.     Roughly  speak- 
ing, this  city  represented  the  point  where  the  two 
lines  meet  which  form  the  letter  T,  the  three  arms 
spreading  from  it  being  the  approaching  routes  of 
the  three  English  armies,  mustering  between  them 
not  far  off  20,000  men.     I  do  not  propose  to  deal  at 
any  length  with  the  details  of  these  three  advances, 
not  because  there  was  no  fighting,  as  Amherst  and 
Haviland  were  both  opposed,  so  far  as  Levis'  scat- 
tered forces  could  oppose  them.     But  the  resistance 
was  necessarily  feeble  ;  and  it  was  a  question  of  good 
organization  and  energy,  rather  than  military  force, 
wbbh  brought  to  a  happy  termination  a  summer's 
campaigning  which,  on  paper  at  any  rate,  looked  a 
foregone  conclusion. 

373 


i 


MURRAY  SAILS  FOR  MONTREAL  [1760 


iU 


■M 


!< 


!  r 


«fc 


To  the  lover  of  olden  times  and  quaint  descrip- 
tion it  is  pleasant  to  follow  our  discursive  friend 
Knox  up  the  St.  Lawrence,  with  Murray's  fleet.  It 
was  through  bright  summer  days  and  with  thirty-two 
ships  and  nine  floating  batteries  they  pursued  that 
delightful  river  journey  from  Quebec  to  Montreal, 
which  every  passenger  by  a  Canadian  liner  has 
no^vadays  the  option  of  enjoying,  and,  if  wise,  does 
net  neglect  the  opportunity. 

Leaving  2,500  invalids  and  wounded  in  Quebec 
to  revive  with  the  summer  warmth  and  the 
abundance  of  food  which  incoming  ships  and  the 
pacification  of  the  country  brought  to  their 
market,  Murray  left  there  with  about  as  many 
combatants  on  July  the  14th.  Lord  RoUo,  with 
two  regiments  from  Louisbourg,  followed  close 
behind.  The  whole  country  in  their  rear  had  now 
sworn  allegiance,  but  Vaudreuil,  by  sowing  false 
news  and  proclamations  broadcast,  was  making 
desperate  efforts  to  shake  them.  These  proclama- 
tions are  a  real  curiosity  in  the  art  of  deception. 
The  credulity  and  ignorance  of  the  Canadians,  great 
as  it  was,  could  hardly  have  swallowed  the  announce- 
ment that  Great  Britain  was  on  the  point  of  being 
compelled  to  sue  for  peace,  and  that  the  Canadian 
peasants,  in  a  few  weeks,  would  return  once  more 
from  British  tyranny  to  that  benign  Government  of 
absolutism,  plunder,  and  intolerance,  which  had,  in 
fact,  been  the  cause  of  all  their  sufferings.  As  I 
have  indicated,  the  adventures  of  the  fleet  ascend- 
ing the  river  were  inconsiderable.  It  was  much  the 
largest  ever  seen  in  the  higher  reaches,  and  the 
country  people,  whose  farms  and  villages  lined  both 
banks,   regarded    it    with   proper  awe,    and    swore 

374 


T 


36  more 


"•f 


1760]  ASCENT  OP  THE  ST.  LAWRENCE 

themselves  in  as  good  subjects  of  King  George  as 
readily  as  they  brought  on  board  such  provisions 
as  they  had  to  sell.  Small  military  posts,  howeveri 
remained  occupied  here  and  there  by  the  French, 
who  fired  at  the  ships  in  desultory  fashion  as  they 
passed,  and  received  their  fire  in  turn.  They  were 
not,  however,  worth  wasting  time  over,  for,  Mont- 
real captured  and  L^vis  beaten,  they  would  of 
necessity  collapse  at  once  with  the  rest  of  the 
colony.  At  Trois  Rivieres  there  seemed  to  those  on 
board  to  be  at  least  2,000  troops  marching  along  the 
shore  and  watching  their  motions,  including  the  sole 
body  of  regular  cavalry  in  North  America,  well 
accoutred  in  blue  and  red  uniforms.  They  made 
quite  a  brave  show,  says  Knox,  amid  the  delightful 
prospect  around — the  fine  convents  and  churches,  the 
neat  farms  and  well-cultivated  fields.  The  naviga- 
tion of  the  shallow  lake  of  St.  Peter  gave  con- 
siderable trouble ;  but  in  the  deeper  and  narrower 
channels  amid  the  islands  beyond  the  scene  was 
quite  enchanting.  In  the  chronicler's  quaint  words, 
**  Nothing  could  equal  the  beauties  of  our  navigation, 
with  which  I  was  exceedingly  charmed :  the  mean- 
dering course  of  the  channel,  so  narrow  that  an 
active  person  might  have  stepped  ashore  from  our 
transports  either  to  the  right  or  left ;  the  awf ulness 
and  solemnity  of  the  dark  forests  with  which  these 
islands  are  covered,  together  with  the  fragrancy  of 
the  spontaneous  fruits,  flowers,  and  shrubs ;  the 
verdure  of  the  water  by  the  reflection  of  neigh- 
bouring woods,  the  wild  chirping  notes  of  the 
feathered  inhabitants,  the  masts  and  sails  of 
ships  appearing  as  if  among  the  trees,  both  ahead 
and   astern,    heightened    by  the   promiscuous   noise 

375 


* 


# 


If 

4' 
1 


% 


!:' 


-*■     • 


'••  i« 


'    ^t.*. 4k  > 


KM    4   t  k      4  1 


> 


H 


M 


/- 


:  4 


.^. 


i  ^ 


f- 


ARRIVAL  AT  MONTREAL 


[1760 


of  the  seamen  and  the  confused  chatter  of  the 
rapturous  troops  on  their  decks,  formed  all  to- 
gether such  an  enchantmg  diversity  as  would  be 
far  superior  to  the  highest  and  most  laboured  descrip- 
tion." 

Many  of  the  English  captives  of  Fort  William 
Henry  escaped  from  their  masters  at  the  sight  of 
the  English  fleet,  and  came  timorously  on  board. 
When  questioned  as  to  their  hesitation,  they  replied 
that  the  French  priests,  to  whom  flection  seems  to 
have  been  a  positive  pleasure,  had  assured  them 
they  would  be  hanged  to  a  certainty. 

But  this  triumphal  and  picturesque  progress  of  the 
British  into  their  new  dominion  must  be  cut  short, 
as  our  space  runs  out,  and  events  of  more  immediate 
moment  have  to  be  chronicled.  It  will  be  enough  to 
say  that  Murray  crept  steadily  on,  giving  those  dis- 
tricts which  submiitted  every  testimony  of  present  and 
future  clemency,  and  making  a  stern  example,  though 
with  a  sore  heart,  of  the  few  who  did  not.  At 
the  mouth  of  the  Richelieu,  where  Haviland  was 
expected  by  the  Champlain  route,  they  found  large 
bodies  of  the  main  French  army,  under  Bourlamaque 
and  Dumas,  waiting  for  both  English  attacks,  who 
followed  them  upon  either  shore  as  they  forged 
along  the  winding  river,  even  then  lined  with 
farms  and  villages,  towards  the  island  of  Montreal. 
At  the  island  of  St.  Th^r^se,  a  few  miles  below  the 
city,  Murray  halted,  and  awaited  the  arrival  of 
Haviland  and  Amherst.  The  former,  in  the  mean- 
while, had  been  pushing  the  French  steadily 
before  him,  and  arrived  below  Montreal  soon 
after  Murray,  where  both  waited  at  their  leisure 
for  Amherst,  who  was  descending  the  St.  Lawrence 

376 


y^l^Bl 


1 


t.  Ifl  I 


1760] 


AMHERST 


upon  the  other  side  of  the  city,  and  was  even 
now  close  at  hand.  On  the  6th  of  September 
Amherst  arrived,  and  the  triple  movement  was 
completed  with  an  accuracy  that  did  credit  to  all 
concerned. 

Amherst,  with  10,000  men,  besides  Johnson  and 
his  700  Indians,  had  left  Oswego  just  a  month 
before.  With  a  vast  fleet  of  bateaux  and  whale- 
boats,  and  a  few  armed  craft,  he  had  passed  out 
of  Lake  Ontario,  and  down  through  the  thousand 
islands.  Our  old  friend  Pouchot,  of  Niagaia  memory, 
lately  exchanged,  alone  stood  in  his  path,  at  Fort 
L^vis,  above  the  head  of  the  first  rapids.  The 
British  officers,  who  knew  him  personally,  inter- 
changed friendly  banter  as  the  ships  came  within 
hailing  distance  of  their  late  prisoner.  After  a  stout 
resistance,  however,  he  and  his  garrison  were  cap- 
tured, and  Amherst  moved  on  to  what  was  really 
the  more  serious  matter  of  the  descent  of  the  rapids. 
Johnson's  Indians  were  with  great  difficulty  kept  off 
the  captured  garrison.  Canadian  precedents  and  the 
unblushing  bloodthirstiness  of  so  many  of  the  priests 
was  a  trial  even  to  British  humanity.  It  was  almost 
more  than  the  ethics  of  the  Iroquois  could  be  ex- 
pected to  stand,  and  two-thirds  of  them  went  home 
in  disgust ;  but  happily  they  were  no  longer  required, 
and  might  well  have  proved  troublesome. 

The  rapids  were  a  much  greater  cause  of  anxiety 
to  Amherst  than  were  the  French,  as  any  one  who 
knows  the  St.  Lawrence  can  well  understand.  He 
had  to  navigate  over  800  bateaux  and  whaleboats,  with 
their  freights  of  stores  and  men,  down  the  seven  or 
eight  dangerous  places  that  lay  between  him  and 
Montreal,  and  such  work  is  a  science  to  itself.  He  had 

377 


it' 


il      V 


RUNNING  THE  RAPIDS 


[1760 


tf  >■ 


r     ^ 


:l'l 


M:- 


plenty  of  men  who  were  masters  of  it,  but  the  rapids 
of  the  St.  Lawrence  were  on  a  great  and  formidable 
scale,  beyond  average  experience.  Some  local  know- 
ledge was  necessary,  and  Amherst  had  difficulty  in 
securing,  through  Indians  or  coerced  Canadians,  the 
required  experience.  He  did  the  best  he  could,  how- 
ever, and  ran  the  Galops,  Point  Iroquois,  Point 
Cardinal,  and  Rapid  Plat  without  disaster,  to  his 
own  surprise  and  somewhat  premature  jubilation. 
On  September  the  1st  his  great  fleet  of  boats  went 
down  the  Long  Sault  with  not  quite  such  immu- 
nity, several  soldiers  being  drowned.  The  next 
day  they  floated  over  the  Lake  St.  Francis.  On 
the  3rd  they  went  over  the  Conteau  rapids  safely. 
On  the  4th  the  Cedars  and  Cascades  were  adven- 
tured with  a  very  different  result.  Sixty-six  boats 
in  all  came  to  grief,  many  of  them  with  their 
stores  being  hopelessly  lost,  and  eighty-four  men 
drowned.  Still,  this  did  not  affect  the  fate  of 
Canada.  On  the  6th  the  British  had  landed  at 
Lachine,  and  by  evening  were  encamped  within 
sight  of  the  city,  Murray  and  Haviland  being  in  touch 
with  each  other  upon  its  further  or  eastern  side. 

The  situation  of  the  French,  in  this  their  last 
stronghold,  was  quite  hopeless.  Montreal  was  not  a 
natural  fortress  like  Quebec,  and,  even  if  it  had  been, 
the  inevitable  could  not  have  been  materially  de- 
ferred. The  Swedish  professor,  whose  memories  of 
Lake  Champlain  have  been  quoted  in  a  former  chap- 
ter, came  on  to  Montreal,  and  gives  us  a  vivid  picture 
of  what  it  looked  like  ten  years  or  so  before  this,  the 
year  of  its  surrender.  It  had,  of  course,  the  St.  Law- 
rence on  one  side  of  it,  and  on  the  three  others  a  deep 
ditch  full  of  water.     It  was  surrounded  by  a  high 

378 


.>. 


1760] 


MONTREAL 


and  thick  wall,  but  covered  too  much  ground,  from 
the  scattered  nature  of  the  houses,  to  be  defended 
by  a  small  force.  Unlike  Quebec,  too,  most  of  the 
private  houses  were  of  wood,  though  admirably  built. 
There  were  several  churches  and  convents  and 
seminaries,  —  fine  buildings  of  stone,  mostly  sur- 
rounded by  spacious  gardens, — while  the  streets  were 
broad  and  straight,  and  some  of  them  paved.  In  the 
background  rose  "the  Mountain,"  then  clad  in  vir- 
gin forests,  which,  upon  this  fateful  7th  of  September, 
had  not  as  yet  been  touched  by  autumn's  fiery  hand. 
Before  the  city  flowed  the  noble  river,  not  long 
calmed  domi  from  the  fury  of  the  La  Chine  rapids, 
and  at  this  point  little  less  than  two  miles  broad. 
Knox  more  than  endorses  Kalm's  eulogies,  and  thinks 
Montreal  the  most  delightful  place  he  has  seen.  The 
fortifications  were  contemptible,  but  "  the  excellence 
of  the  private  houses,  the  magnificence  of  the  public 
buildings,  the  pleasant  country  seats  and  villas  scat- 
tered about  amid  gardens  and  plantations  outside 
the  walls,  and,  above  all,  the  charm  of  the  situation," 
enchants  the  gallant  captain,^  in  a  mood,  no  doubt 
just  then,  to  be  easily  pleased.  To  see  the  gay  crowd 
in  the  streets,  too,  the  silk  cloaks  and  laced  coats  and 
powdered  heads,  one  would  have  supposed,  he  says, 
that  these  people,  instead  of  being  the  victims  of  a 
long  and  disastrous  war,  were  all  in  the  enjoyment 
of  ample  and  unimpaired  fortunes.  But  this  is  an- 
ticipating a  little,  for  Knox  and  his  friends  were  not 
yet  actually  inside. 

Here,  within  or  around  the  city,  if  importance  in 
lieu  of  population  can  justify  the  term,  were  gathered 
all  the  civil  and  military  chiefs  of  Canada,  for  once, 

*  Knox  would  seem  to  have  got  his  majority  about  this  time. 

379 


r^i 


^: 


* 


i 


%  :: 


THE  FRENCH  SUBBOUNDED    [1760 

at  least/united  in  the  conviction  that  all  hope  had  fled. 
The  thoughts  of  the  civilians  had  by  far  the  most 
cause  to  be  gloomy.  The  Intendant  Bigot,  Cadet  and 
their  band  of  parasites  saw  with  despair  the  bone  they 
had  so  long  picked,  passing  from  their  grasp— the 
goose  that  for  them  alone  had  lain  so  many  golden 
eggs  at  length  on  the  point  of  extinction,  a  fate  in 
part  due  to  their  former  imprudences.  But  worse  than 
all  they  saw  an  outraged  king  and  government  be- 
yond the  ocean,  who,  maddened  with  their  loss,  would 
welcome  with  joy  the  poor  consc^ation  of  demanding 
an  account  of  a  stewardship  so  int  jmously  outraged. 
As  for  the  military  leaders,  however  bitter  their  feel- 
ings, they  were  those  of  brave  and  honourable  men, 
suffering  the  chagrin  of  defeat  which  they  had  for 
some  time  become  accustomed  to  regard  as  inevitable. 
I^vis,  Bourlamaque  and  Bougainville  had  little  cause 
for  self-reproach,  for  they  had  done  all  that  men 
could  do.  Since  the  near  approach  of  the  British  a 
rapid  dissolution  of  the  French  army  had  set  in.  The 
Indians  had  entirely  repudiated  their  ancient  allies 
and  patrons,  while  the  militia  had  gone  home  to  a  man. 
The  married  soldiers  of  the  colony  regulars  had  in 
great  part  deserted,  while  many  of  the  French  lines- 
men who  had  married  in  the  country  had  done  the 
same.  Only  2,500  troops,  mostly  French  regulars, 
now  remained  with  L^vis  and  his  officers.  They  had 
provisions  for  a  fortnight,  and  represented  the  entire 
resisting  force  of  the  colony.  Amherst,  Murray 
and  Haviland  lay  outside  the  town  with  seven- 
teen or  eighteen  thousand  men,  mostly  veterans. 
It  was,  indeed,  the  end  of  all  things.  Vaudreuil  held 
a  council  of  war  on  the  6th,  which  was  naturally 
unanimous,  on  the  necessity  of  an  immediate  capitu- 

380 


[1760 

Lad  fled. 
le  most 
det  and 
•ne  they 
sp — the 

golden 

fate  in 
rse  than 
lent  be- 
8,  would 
aanding 
itraged. 
leir  f  eel- 
ile  men, 
had  for 
Bvi  table. 
}le  cause 
lat  men 
British  a 

in.  The 
int  allies 
bo  a  man. 
i  had  in 
Lch  lines- 
lone  the 
regulars, 
Chey  had 
he  entire 

Murray 
h  seven- 
veterans. 
*euil  held 
naturally 
e  capitu- 


1760] 


CAPITULATION 


lation.  Bougainville,  however,  was  sent  early  on 
the  following  day  to  Amherst  with  a  proposal  to 
suspend  hostilities  for  a  month — which  reads  like  a 
very  poor  joke.  Vaudreuil  perhaps  felt  ashamed  of 
it  as  he  quickly  followed  with  an  ofPer  of  capitula- 
tion, specifying  terms  which  hud  been  approved  by 
his  council.  There  were  forty-five  clauses,  most  of 
which  Amherst  nj^reed  to,  though  a  few  were  sum- 
marily rejected.  L^vis  and  his  ofiBicers  had  fully 
counted  on  being  allowed  to  march  out  with  their 
arms  and  the  honours  of  war.  Amherst  bluntly 
insisted  that  the  troops  should  lay  down  their  arms 
unconditionally  as  prisoners,  and  undertake  not  to 
serve  in  Europe  during  the  present  war.  L^vis 
bitterly  resented  this,  and  himself  sent  de  la  Pause, 
his  quartermaster-general,  to  plead  with  the  English 
general  against  this  rigorous  condition.  Amherst, 
however,  not  only  refused,  but,  according  to  Knox, 
who  w-s  on  the  ground,  sternly  silenced  Levis'  envoy, 
and  told  him  that  he  was  "fully  resolved,  for  the 
infamous  part  the  troops  of  France  had  acted  in 
exciting  the  savages  to  perpetrate  the  most  horrid 
and  unheard-of  barbarities  in  the  whole  progress  of 
the  war,  and  for  other  open  treacheries,  as  well  as 
flagrant  breaches  of  faith,  to  manifest  to  all  the 
world  by  this  capitulation  his  detestation  of  such 
ungenerous  practices  and  disapprobation  of  their 
conduct,  therefore  insisted  he  must  decline  any 
remonstrance  on  the  subject." 

Upon  this  L^vis  demanded  of  Vaudreuil  that  the 
negotiations  should  be  broken  off,  or  if  not,  that  the 
troops  should  retire  to  St.  Helens  island  upon  their 
own  responsibility,  and  resist  to  the  utmost  rather 
than  accept  such  terms.    One  does  not,  of  course,  feel 

381 


% 


!^| 


*1l 
'I 

1 


If 


iiii 


i  ^  I 


%■■ 


■'it 


«'• 


SURRENDER  OF  CANADA       [1760 

quite  convinced  of  the  sincerity  of  a  suggestion  that 
was  so  superfluous,  and  not  perhaps  palatable,  and 
certainly  unfair,  to  the  rank  and  file.     But  in  any 
case   Vaudreuil  remained   firm,    and  on  the  8th  of 
September  the  capitulation  as  amended  by  Amherst 
was  formally  signed.     Thus,  by  a  stroke  of  the  pen, 
Canada  was  transferred  to  the  British  crown,  and, 
save  for  the  small  settlement  of   New  Orleans,  far 
away  dn  the  remote  South  on  the  Gulf  of  Mexico, 
the  French  power,  recently  so  potent  and  so  threaten- 
ing,   disappeared    for    ever    from    North    America. 
Among  some  of  de  Yaudreuil's  stipulations  was  one 
that  the  British  Indians  should  be  sent  away.     Am- 
herst refused  it,  pr^^udly  replying  that  no  Frenchmen 
surrendering  under  treaty  had  yet  ever  suffered  from 
outrage  by  Indians  co-operating  with  a  British  army. 
The  gist  of  the  articles  of  capitulation  may  be  briefly 
summed  up.     All  the  regular  troops  in  Canada,  not 
only  at   Montreal,  but  the  small  isolated  garrisons, 
together  with  the  officials,  civil  and  military,  were  to 
be  conveyed  to  France  in  British  ships.      Whoever 
wished  to  leave  the  country  wa^  permitted  t""  do  so, 
a  period  of  grace  being  given  ijr  tv.  winding  up  of 
necessary  business  matters,  such  as  the  collection  of 
debts  or  sale  of  property.     Entire  religious  freedom 
was   wisely   granted,   though   a   clause   reserving   a 
power  of  clerical  appointments  to  the  French  throne 
was  as  wisely  rejected,  while   some   minor   clauses, 
though  not  rejected,  were  reserved  for  the  King  of 
England's  pleasure. 

Amherst  sent  in  the  able  Swiss  officer,  Haldimand, 
to  take  possession  of  the  conquered  city,  as  being, 
perhaps,  especially  acceptable  to  the  French  at  this 
bitter  moment.     A  regrettable  incident  marred  this 

382 


■^4 


[1760 

tion  that 
Eible,  and 
t  in  any 
e  8th  of 
Amherst 

the  pen, 
)wn,  and, 
eans,  far 
c  Mexico, 
threaten- 
America. 

was  one 
ly.  Am- 
■enchmen 
ired  from 
ish  army, 
be  briefly 
[lada,  not 
jarrisons, 
,  were  to 
Whoever 
t"-  do  so, 
ing  up  of 
ection  of 

freedom 
erving  a 
}h  throne 
'   clauses, 

King  of 

ildimand, 
as  being, 
h  at  this 
,rred  this 


1760]    A  REGRETTABLE  INCIDENT 

final  scene,  unworthy  both  of  the  men  and  the  occa- 
sion. When  L^vis  delivered  up  the  paraphernalia  of 
his  army  no  French  flags  were  forthcoming,  and  to 
the  remonstrances  of  Amherst  and  Haldimand,  he 
affirmed  that  they  had  been  accidentally  destroyed. 
Nobody  wished  to  believe  a  brave  antagonist  guilty 
of  so  petty  an  outrage  against  all  the  laws  of  war 
and  honour.  But  it  was  known  in  the  British  army 
that  the  French  flags  had  been  used  by  their  owners 
since  any  serious  engagement  had  been  fought,  and 
it  is  quite  certain  that  neither  Amherst  nor  his 
brigadiers  believed  Levis'  statement. 

It  is  a  pity  that  such  an  incident  should  stain 
de  Levis'  Canadian  record,  and  that  a  brave  soldier, 
whose  very  surrender,  like  Lees  at  Appomatox  a 
century  later,  presented  a  nobler  spectacle  than  many 
victories.  It  was  of  a  truth  not  the  fault  of  those 
who  had  fought  for  Canada  that  she  had  fallen. 
De  L^vis,  de  Bourlamaque,  de  Bougainville,  Dumas, 
Pouchot  and  de  la  Oorne.  and  their  brothers  in  arms 
who  stood  as  prisoners  of  war  on  the  island  of 
Montreal,  had  no  lack  of  faith  or  vigour  or  valour 
to  reproach  themselves  with.  It  would  have  been 
well  for  France  had  she  possessed  their  equivalents 
at  that  time  in  Europe  —  officers  as  faithful  under 
discouragement  and  neglect,  as  hardy  and  tireless  in 
the  field.  Nor  is  it  at  all  likely  that  she  had  at  that 
moment  any  troops  of  quite  such  a  quality  as  those 
seasoned  veterans  of  the  seven  famous  regiments, 
who  gave  up  their  arms  to  Amherst's  overwhelming 
force,  but  had  found  their  match  upon  the  Plains 
of  Abraham.  It  was  little  thanks,  however,  these 
brave  men  ever  got  from  the  country,  who,  to  its 
own  dire   misfortune,  had   left   them  in  the  lurch. 

383 


5{ 


11 

1 
I    J 

■ 


" 


% 


4- 


m 


i 


TT 


w     .^^ 


# 


¥ 


)'• 


.«r 


■%i 


A  NOTABLE  GROUP 


[1760 


Montcalm,  the  first  of  them  all,  got  little  indeed 
but  calumny.  It  has  been  left  for  Englishmen 
and  Canadians  to  keep  green  the  memory  of  an 
able  and  merciful  soldier  and  a  worthy  gentleman. 
No  monument  in  the  world  is  more  suggestive  than 
that  simple  shaft  upon  the  Heights  of  Abraham, 
erected  by  the  two  races  whose  ancestors  fought 
there,  to  the  joint  memory  of  Wolfe  and  Montcalm. 

It  was  a  well-seasoned  and  a  war-worn  group, 
too,  that  gathered  round  the  victorious  Amherst  in 
the  Place  d'Armes  at  Montreal,  when  he  paraded  his 
troops  for  the  formal  submission  of  the  Marquis  de 
Vaudreuil.  Some  of  the  chief  actors  in  the  past  seven 
years  of  war,  Monckton,  Bouquet  and  Washington, 
were  absent  with  good  cause.  Wolfe  and  Prideaux, 
the  elder  Howe  and  Braddock,  Forbes  and  many 
others,  were  in  the  grave.  Two  or  three  had  laid 
their  reputations  there,  but  were  themselves  still 
among  the  living,  though  beyond  the  sea. 

But  at  that  ceremony,  whose  infinite  significance 
is  more  apparent  to  our  eyes  now  than  to  those  of 
the  purblind  and  preoccupied  Europe  of  that  day, 
there  was  a  goodly  throng  of  warriors  who  had 
well  earned  the  exultation  that  was  theirs.  Some  of 
them  lived  to  win  far  greater  fame,  others  to  bury 
such  as  they  had  won  in  a  still  distant  struggle  upon 
the  same  familiar  scenes. 

Murray  and  Haviland  led  their  brigades.  Bur- 
ton and  Gage,  who  had  seen  the  whole  war  through 
from  the  commencement,  and  Eraser,  the  gallani; 
Highlander,  headed  their  respective  regiments. 
Carleton,  who  was  to  become  a  famous  Viceroy  of 
Canada  and  to  die  Lord  Dorchester,  was  here ;  and 
Howe,  too,  whose  leadership  up  the  cliffs  at  the  Anse 

384 


-    t. 


■^  -'•V*         If 


W''    M» 


-r 


I 


i. 


•^ 


ii5> 


A  WAR-WORN   GROUP 

du  Foulon  was  to  be  unhappily  forgotten  in  his 
failure  against  the  Americans  in  after  days.  The 
Swiss  soldier  and  scholar  Haldimand,  who  was 
also  to  govern  Canada  wisely  and  well,  was  in 
the  group.  Sir  William  Johnson,  the  baronet  of 
the  Mohawk  valley,  the  master  spirit  of  the  Six 
Nations,  the  only  white  man  on  the  continent  the 
Indians  really  bowed  to,  was  here,  tall  and  muscular, 
cheery  and  unceremonious.  No  such  picture  would  be 
complete  without  Rogers.  No  man  had  faced  death 
so  often — Rogers  with  a  hundred  lives,  that  prince 
of  backwoods  fighters,  and  his  two  brothers,  each 
commanders  of  companies,  and  only  inferior  to  him- 
self. Dalling  and  Hazen,  too,  though  but  captains,  as 
leaders  of  light  infantry  it  would  be  ill  forgetting. 
Schuyler  and  Lyman,  the  New  York  and  Massachu- 
setts colonels,  in  blue  uniforms  and  three-cornered 
hats,  were  conspicuous  among  their  fellows,  and 
were  to  be  heard  of  again  in  still  more  conspicuous 
fashion.  Nor  should  we  forget  in  what  is  after  all 
but  a  partial,  and,  perhaps,  even  invidious  retrospect, 
the  gallant  naval  captain,  Loring,  who  handled  Am- 
herst's improvised  fleets  on  Lake  Champlain  and  the 
St.  Lawrence  with  unwearied  energy ;  nor  yet  Patrick 
Mackellar,  whose  forts  and  ramparts  and  redoubts 
were  strewn  over  the  whole  range  of  conflict,  and 
may  yet  be  traced  by  the  curious  under  forest 
leaves,  or  amid  bustling  towns,  or  in  track  of  the 
farmer's  plough.  Jealousies  between  redcoats  and 
bluecoats  and  men  in  hunting  shirts,  we  may  well 
believe,  were  now,  at  any  rate  for  the  moment,  laid 
to  rest.  Within  a  few  days  ship  after  ship  bearing 
the  remnants  of  the  French  army  had  dropped  down 
the   river.     All   that   remained   was    to  carry  Vau- 

385  cc 


\ 


$ 


*ikm   I 


m 


I 
I 


* 


^n 


f      ' 


:7r 


«i 


THE  FINAL  CEREMONY 

dreuil's  orders  of  submission  to  the  small  French 
posts  upon  the  St.  Lawrence  and  in  the  West,  and 
to  hoist  the  British  flag  in  a  score  of  lonely  spots 
where  the  lilies  of  Franco  had  floated  since  the 
first  white  men  broke  upon  their  solitude. 


386 


T^     ▼ 


'5,  ' 


^!«*., 


^. 


French 
^st,  and 
y  spots 
ice   the 


CONCLUSION 

SINCE  brevity  is  the  plea  upon  which  this  nar- 
rative chiefly  relies  for  its  justification,  I 
shall  make  no  apology  for  having  kept  almost 
wholly  aloof  from  the  contemporary  events  in 
Europe  during  the  Seven  Years'  War.  For  the  same 
reason,  I  had  fully  intended  to  let  the  surrender  of 
Vaudreuil  and  L^vis  at  Montreal  be  the  final  word 
of  this  volume,  and  to  resist  all  temptation  to  touch 
upon  the  great  questions  that  the  war  gave  rise  to. 

Now,  however,  that  I  have  come  to  the  end  of  my 
allotted  tether,  I  feel  that  the  word  finis,  written 
where  I  had  intended  to  write  it,  would  lay  me  open 
to  a  charge  of  somewhat  inartistic  abruptness, 
both  in  a  literary  and  historical  sense,  and  that  a 
story  so  suddenly  closed  would  exhibit  a  lack  of  finish 
and  completeness  that  three  or  four  pages  more 
would  go  far,  I  trust,  to  rectify. 

Now  Vaudreuil  signed  those  ever  memorable 
articles  of  capitulation  on  September  the  9th,  1760, 
within  a  few  days  of  the  first  anniversary  of  Wolfe's 
death,  and  in  due  course,  in  accordance  with  the 
terms  of  the  document,  the  remains  of  the  French 
army,  the  entire  body  of  officials,  and  a  certain  num- 
ber of  the  leading  gentry,  by  their  own  wish,  were 
carried  to  France  in  British  ships. 

387 


# 


■^ 


4 


U 


'If    -i 


l--^ 


1 


Tr 


%' 


4H 


^^ 


CONCLUSION 


^  Pending  the  peace  a  military  government  was  set 

up  in  the  Colony,  which  was  divided  for  this  purpose 
into  three  districts — Quebec,  Three  Rivers,  and  Mont- 
real— respectively  assigned   to   Murray,  Burton  and 
Gage.     The  precise  forms  of  this  government  do  not 
concern  us.     It  will  be  enough  to  say  that  it  was  con- 
ducted with  the  utmost  possible  consideration  for  the 
people,  for  their  religion,  their  language,  and  their 
laws.      One   must   not   undervalue   the   strength   of 
racial  sontiment,  but,  with  that  exception,  the  people 
found  themselves  in  every  respect  better  off   than 
they  had  ever  before  been,  and  did  not  hesitate  to 
proclaim  the  fact  in  loud  and  grateful  tones.     If  the 
ignor  mt  T^bs  who,  in  various  parts  of  Europe  and 
Ame)    'f-        .  eech   their  pitiable  stuff   about   British 
^       tyranny    ^^(^    the   more   enlightened   few,  who,  for 
motiven   base   and   of    deliberation,  thus  bear  false 
witness    agi.'ist       >3ir    neighbour,    desired   light  or 
truth,  which  is  no  I  in  the  least  likely,  the  epoch   in 
question  would  be  an  admirable  point  for  them  to 
commence  their  investigations. 

It  has  been  well  said  by  historians,  neither  English 
nor  French,  that,  throughout  the  whole  hundred  and 
fifty  years  of  French  rule  in  Canada,  there  is  no 
evidence  that  the  well-being,  the  happiness  or  the 
comfort  of  the  people  was  ever  for  a  single  moment 
taken  into  consideration.  They  had  been,  in  fact, 
slaves — slaves  to  the  corvees  and  unpaid  military 
service — debarred  from  education  and  crammed  with 
gross  fictions  and  superstitions  as  an  aid  to  their 
docility  and  their  value  as  food  for  powder.  It  is 
no  wonder  that  they  were  as  gratified  as  they  were 
astonished  when  they  found  the  Englishmen  of 
reality  bore  no  resemblance  whatever  to  the   Eng- 

388 


Mi 


MMl_^ 


V  CONCLUSION 

lishman  of  priestly  fiction.  The  common  people 
were  to  their  surprise  officially  informed  of  all  pub- 
lie  events,  and  the  gentry  class,  who  had  hitherto 
had  no  share  whatever  in  the  government,  were 
enrolled  in  various  capacities  as  the  custodians  of 
law  and  order.  When  King  George  died,  a  few 
weeks  only  after  the  surrender  of  the  Colony,  the 
people  of  Montreal  went  of  their  own  accord  into 
mourning  and  presented  an  address,  declaring  he 
had  treated  them  as  a  father  would  treat  his  own 
children  rather  than  as  a  conquered  people.  And 
all  this  was  under  military  government,  for  two 
years  yet  remained  before  the  peace  and  the  Treaty 
of  Paris,  which  was  to  formally  annex  Canada  to  the 
Briti'^.h  crown :  when,  as  every  one  knows,  the  same 
policy  was  continued  under  a  civil  administration. 

For  more  than  twenty  years  there  were  practically 
no  English-speaking  settlers  in  Canada,  and  but  a  few 
thousand  in  Nova  Scotia  and  the  adjoining  coasts. 
It  was  not  till  the  close  of  the  War  of  Independence, 
that  the  stream  of  American  loyalists  set  in  for  the 
maritime  provinces  and  the  virgin  forests  of  Ontario 
and  laid  the  foundations  of  the  dominion  of  Canada 
as  we  now  know  it. 

In  the  meantime  a  Nemesis  awaited  the  Canadian 
civil  officials  who  had  so  betrayed  their  trust  and 
their  country.  The  very  seas  rose  up  against  them 
as  they  beat  their  way  homewards  through  danger, 
misery  and  tempest.  Upon  landing,  ten  of  them, 
headed  by  Vaudreuil,  Bigot  and  Cadet,  were  at  once 
arrested  and  thrown  into  the  Bastile.  Twenty-one  in 
all  were  put  on  trial,  and  so  severe  were  the  punish- 
ments in  the  shape  of  fine  and  banishment,  that  most 
of  them  only  survived  as  broken  and  ruined  men. 

389 


f  ••• 


?  -, 

f 


''P 


^ 


-\- 


I 


♦#r: 


-* 


,1  s 


i^'- 


CONCLUSION 

Though  North  America  had  peace,  the  war  dragged 
on  in  Europe  and  elsewhere  for  over  two  years.  In 
the  month  following  the  surrender  of  Canada  to 
Amherst,  King  George,  as  I  have  mentioned,  died, 
thus  closing  a  long  reign  that  he  had  at  any  rate 
done  nothing  to  prevent  being  for  the  most  part  a 
glorious  one,  while  he  had  proved  himself  to  be  at 
least  a  brave,  an  honest,  and  a  constitutional  mon- 
arch. 

The  pitiable  debUt  of  his  youthful  grandson  at  this 
exalted  period  is  a  familiar  picture.  That  he  was  an 
ardent  Englishman,  and  meant  well,  that  he  was 
fond  of  agriculture,  and  above  reproach  in  morals, 
may  be  of  abstract  interest,  but  is  of  slight  import- 
ance in  history  when  weighed  against  his  pernicious 
actions,  and  more  particularly  when  it  is  remem- 
bered that  his  domestic  virtues  had  small  effect  on 
the  country,  but  were  rather  objects  of  ridicule.  It  is 
the  failings  of  George  III.  that  matter,  and  constitute 
him,  in  the  opinion  of  many,  the  most  mischievous 
monarch  that  ever  sat  upon  the  throne  of  England. 
Personally  pure  and  patriotic,  he  practised  corruption 
at  home  and  courted  disaster  abroad  with  tireless 
industry  in  the  pursuit  of  that  dream  of  absolutism 
which  had  been  so  religiously  instilled  into  his  obsti- 
nate nature  by  a  narrow-minded  mother. 

He  began  almost  at  once  to  show  his  hand,  and 
make  it  evident  that  the  giory  of  England  was  quite 
a  secondary  matter  to  the  pursuit  of  his  mischievous 
and  narrow  ideal.  Pitt,  with  his  proud  spirit  and 
imperial  convictions,  was  impossible  in  the  atmo- 
sphere that  soon  surrounded  the  new  king,  and  his 
very  eminence  had  gained  him  powerful  enemies. 
Happily  his  work  was  done,  when,  to  the  discontent 

390 


rnicious 


CONCLUSION 

of  the  people,  who  pelted  his  successor  with  mud  and 
stones,  he  was  forced  to  resign  the  leadership  he  had 
used  with  such  unparallelled  effect.  But  the  ma- 
chinery he  had  set  in  motion  ran  on  with  the  impetus 
he  had  given  it  till  its  work  was  accomplished  and 
a  glorious  peace  secured. 

Never,  probably,  in  our  political  history,  has  there 
been  such  a  drop  as  that  from  Pitt  to  the  obscure 
and  incapable  coxcomb  who  almost  immediately  suc- 
ceeded him,  pitchforked  by  the  young  King  into  the 
highest  office  of  state.  Even  Newcastle,  who  trimmed 
again  to  get  office,  lent  moral  weight  to  Bute.  But  of 
what  object  to  criticize  the  ministers  of  a  king  whose 
settled  policy  it  was  to  retain  such  men,  and  through 
their  means  to  suborn  and  degrade  Parliament ! 

Frederick  of  Prussia,  who,  with  Pitt's  help  and 
the  indomitable  courage  of  himself  and  his  soldiers, 
was  still  holding  his  own  against  a  legion  of  foes, 
may  well  have  despaired  at  the  fall  of  his  great 
ally,  and  the  advent  of  ministers  who  had  shown 
him  of  late  but  little  sympathy.  The  timely  with- 
drawal of  Russia  and  the  increasing  difficulties  of 
France,  however,  enabled  him  to  hold  out  till  the 
peace,  preserve  his  dominion  inviolate,  and  hand 
down  a  priceless  legacy  of  glory  to  the  great  empire, 
whose  foundations  he  had  laid. 

The  spirit  of  Pitt  lived  on  in  his  soldiers  and 
sailors,  and  the  French  were  beaten  at  every  point 
and  in  every  hemisphere,  by  land  and  sea.  Spain 
was  induced  to  range  herself  with  England's  enemies, 
and  paid  for  it  by  the  speedy  loss  of  Manilla,  the 
Philippines,  and  Havannah,  the  latter  stormed  in  the 
teeth  of  infinite  difficulties  and  with  g  v'eat  loss  of  life. 
All  nations,  except  perhaps  the  English,  were  anxious 

391 


>" 


^ 


■•   i 


i 


ff 


i%^ 


'Jt 


CONCLUSION 


for  peace,  and  the  King  of  England,  for  reasons  of 
his  own,  was  of  the  same  mind.  So  the  Seven  Years' 
War  was  brought  to  an  end  in  the  autumn  of  1762, 
and  the  Treaty  of  Paris  was  signed  early  in  the  f  ollow- 
ingyear.^  Never  before  or  since  has  the  glory  of  Eng- 
land been  written  so  large  upon  any  document  of  the 
kind.  Pitt  and  a  majority  of  the  nation,  however, 
thought  it  was  not  glorious  enough,  and  with  some 
reason  from  the  standpoint  of  their  day.  It  was 
France  who  had  thrown  herself  across  the  path  of 
British  colonial  expansion,  had  provoked  the  struggle 
and  incited  her  Indian  allies  to  the  commission  of 
continuous  and  fiendish  barbarities  on  the  English 
settlements.  This  rankled  deeply  in  men's  minds, 
and  the  more  so  as  England  was  in  a  position  to 
dictate  terms  and  still  full  of  fight,  while  France,  crip- 
pled, demoralized,  and  financially  ruined,  was  practi- 
cally powerless  outside  her  own  borders.  It  was  the 
French,  too,  who  had  essayed  to  drive  the  British 
out  of  India,  with  what  result  needs  no  telling.  The 
sentiment  embodied  in  the  brief  phrase,  never  again, 
current  at  this  moment  in  another  hemisphere,  was 
the  watchword  of  a  majority  who  had  already  been 
tricked  by  the  young  King  out  of  their  power,  and 
Pitt  was  of  course  their  spokesman. 

Great  as  were  the  concessions  to  Britain  in  Asia 
and  America,  they  did  not  seem  to  Pitt  the  full 
measure  of  her  supreme  position  and  of  the  blood 
and  treasure  she  had  lavished  to  attain  it.  Above 
all  the  gift  of  those  two  rocky  islands  off  Newfound- 

*  Havannah  was  exchanged  with  Spain  for  Florida,  New  Orleans 
alone  was  left  to  France  on  the  North  American  mainland,  and  as 
Louisiana  was  afterwards  made  over  to  the  United  States,  the 
dismantling  of  the  fortifications  of  Dunkirk  under  English  en- 
gineers is  of  all  the  clauses  of  this  treaty,  perhaps,  the  most  signi- 
ficant of  the  position  of  England  at  the  moment. 

392 


CONCLUSION 


!»■     \ 


land  to  France,  which  have  been  ever  since  such  a 
fruitful  cause  of  friction  and  danger,  stirred  Pitt's 
prophetic  mind  to  wrath.  Swathed  in  flannels  he 
was  carried  into  the  House,  and  there  in  eloquent  and 
impassioned  tones,  while  denouncing  the  treaty,  pre- 
dicted to  an  unbelieving  and  largely  bribed  audience 
those  future  troubles  with  which  we  are  only  too 
familiar.  But  he  spoke  to  deaf  ears  ;  the  terms  of 
the  treaty  were  approved,  and  if  the  King  bribed  the 
House  of  Commons,  it  is  almost  equally  certain  that 
France  bribed  Bute  with  a  most  princely  fee  for  his 
services  on  her  behalf. 

The  question  of  Canada  stood  on  a  different  basis. 
Many  were  against  retaining  it  upon  grounds  purely 
patriotic,  and  they  will  be  obvious  at  once.  The  ex- 
altation of  the  hour,  and  a  very  natural  ignorance  of 
colonial  feeling,  alone  prevented  those  who  opposed 
retention  from  being  more  numerous.  Many  of  Eng- 
land's enemies  chuckled  and  have  left  written  testi- 
monies to  their  foresight.  Many  of  England's  friends, 
and  some  of  her  own  people,  shook  their  heads.  There 
was  no  mawkish  sentiment  about  this :  it  was  a 
purely  practical  question.  There  are  no  doubt,  even 
yet,  numbers  of  people  in  England  who,  so  far  as  they 
think  about  the  subject  at  all,  believe  that  the  in- 
fatuation of  George  III.  alone  drove  into  rebellion  a 
people  hitherto  wholly  contented  with  their  lot  and 
pathetically  devoted  to  the  Crown  and  the  British 
connection.  Among  those  who  knew  the  American 
Colonies  at  that  time  there  was  much  difference  of 
opinion  as  to  their  drift  in  certain  eventualities,  which 
is  in  itself  significant  enough.  While  the  French 
were  in  Canada  such  speculations  had  no  practical 
interest,   for   it   must   be  remembered  that  the  ex- 

393 


I 


^1 


«[''  . 


-"♦^.^ 


CONCLUSION 


at'     «a 


i   t 


i 


I 


pulsion  of  the  French  was  an  eventuality  not  taken 
into  consideration  till  Pitt's  time.     It  was  impossible 
that  there  should  not  have  been  discontent  at  the 
trade   restrictions   under    which    the   colonists    lay. 
Such  discontent  may  have  been  illogical,  and  even  un- 
grateful, as  this  was  the  price  paid  for  the  protection 
of  England  against  dangers  which  were  then  very 
real,  but  that  it  existed  is  beyond  dispute,  though 
little  enough   of   it,  doubtless,  wcs  heard  amid  the 
triumphs  of  this  particular  moment.      It  had  been 
said  by  a  great  many  people  hitherto  that  nothing 
but  fear  of  the  French  kept  the  Colonies  so  docile. 
The  notion  that  they  would  seek  independence  was 
scouted,  it  is  true,  by  some  of  their  own  foremost 
men,  Franklin  among  them.     But  then  it  is  signifi- 
cant that  the  reason  usually  assigned  for  this  is  their 
incapacity  for  combination,  not  their  unconquerable 
affection  for  the  mother  country.     Yet,  the  greatest 
pessimist  of   that   day  would  hardly  have  hazarded 
the  opinion  that  this  vital  question  would  be  put  to  the 
test,  in  less  than  two  decades,  and  upon  provocation 
that  to  many  of  their  generation  would  have  seemed 
mild  indeed.     As  a  great  English  historian  has  truly 
said,  and  a  scarcely  less  distinguished  American  has 
truly  echoed,  "  the  death  of  Wolfe  upon  the  plains  of 
Abraham  meant  not  only  the   conquest  of   Canada 
but  the  birth  of  the  United  States,"  and  nothing,  most 
assuredly  not   the  ignorant   bowlings  of   a   hetero- 
geneous mob,  so-called  Americans  of  to-day  or  yester- 
day, men  who  have  no  part  or  lot  in  the  great  days 
of  old,  aiid  often  not  so  much  as  even  kinship  with 
either  branch  of  the  conquering  race,  can  rob  England 
of  her  glorious  motherhood.     It  is  quite  certain  that 
no  genuine  American  would  ever  wish  to. 

394 


^ 


■■■^*- 


■rtr^f—r.    - 


^ 


>**>■ 


INDEX 


i 


Abercromby,  Genera),  147,  232. 

233,  239,  261,  263. 
Abernakis  Indians,  342. 
Abraham,  Plains  of  (see  Quebec). 
Acadia,  Condition  of,  47-5B. 
Acadians,  Deportation  of,  121- 

133.  ' 

Adirondacks,  The,  114. 
Aix-la-Chapelle,  Treaty  of,  1,  3, 

40,42.  J'      »    »    . 

Albany,  76,  109,  114,  147,  149, 
198,233,234. 

Albany  traders,  112. 

Albemarle,  Lord,  80. 

Alexandria,  82,  86. 

Alleghanies,  The,  3. 

Alleghany  Eiver,  276. 

Amherst,  General,  211,  219,  222, 
223,  225,  227, 228, 229, 232, 261, 
269,  290, 335-341, 346, 353, 373 
877,  378,  380,  381,  382,  384. 

Amherst,  Captain,  231. 

Ardthuse  frigate,  225. 

Aubry,  357. 

t 

B 

Barrington,  337,  356. 
B^am,  Kegiment  of,  155,  189. 
Bellaitre,  201. 
Beaumont,  303. 
Beaujeu  de,  97. 

Beauport  Lines,  297,  299,  303, 
804,  308,  321,  329. 


395 


Beausejour,  Fort  of,  54, 121,  122. 
123.  '      7       »        J 

Bigot*  60, 126,  137,  206,  380. 

Black  Watch,  253. 

Blakeney,  143. 

Blue  Eidge,  89. 

Boscawen,  Admiral,  81,  215, 219, 

220,232.  ' 

Boston,  15. 
Bourlamaque,  de,  144,  193,  196, 

239,  253,  316,  839,  342,  876 

880,  883.  '         »         . 

Bougainville,  de,  144,  190,  192, 

194,  202,  253, 313, 815, 320, 821 

822,  831,  880,  881,  383. 
Boisherbert,  226. 
Bouquet,  Colonel,  219,^270,  272, 

273,  274,  275, 278, 279, 280, 284. 
Bradstreet,   155,  242,  263,   265, 

266, 267.  ' 

Brown,  Lieutenant,  221. 
Braddock,  81-99. 
Braddock's  road,  272. 
Breton,  Cape,  46,  47. 
Bullitt,  Captain,  276,  277. 
Burton,  Colonel,  232,  315,  826, 

884.  '        '         »        > 

Byrd,  271. 


Cadet.  880. 

Campoell  of  Inverawe,  254. 
Canada  in  1750,  29-89 ;  Govern- 
ment of,  85 ;  Militia,  38. 
Cap  Eouge,  813,  817,  381. 


"» 


.  |. 


■^ 


*?• 


H? 


h 


-A' 


'•n'       T« 


^X 


INDEX 


Carter,  Landon,  106. 

Carleton,  291,  384. 

Catherine  of  Russia,  140. 

Celeron,  de,  43. 

Centurion,  H.M.S.,  308. 

Champlain,  Lake,  106,  112,  343. 

Charles  River,  St.,  297,  320,  332. 

Charleston,  22. 

Chatauqua  lake,  43. 

Chebucto  bay,  216. 

Clerk,  Engineer,  247. 

Colonies,  British,  in  17B0,  8-28. 

Colville,  370. 

Connecticut,  10, 12. 

Colonial  Government,  27,  28. 

Contrecoeur,  Le,  66. 

Cork,  170. 

Come,  de  la,  348,  349,  383. 

Comwallis,  51. 

Coromandiere,  Le,  220. 

Coudres,  ile  aux,  29B. 

Crown  Point,  106,  112,  114,  116, 

147,  340,  342,  346,  373. 
Cumberland,  Duke  of,  163. 
Cumberland,  Fort,  90,  91, 102. 


Bailing,  Major,  367,  385. 
Deane,  Captain,  371. 
Defiance,  Mount,  247,  248. 
Delaware"  Indians,  153. 
Dosgouttes,  Admiral,  224. 
Deschambalt,  313. 
Detroit,  37, 147,  351. 
Devonshire,  Duke  of,  162. 
Diana,  H.M.S.,  371. 
Diamond,  Cape,  298. 
Dinwiddle,  Governor,  57,  61,  65, 

66,  76. 
Dieskau,  Baron,  108,  114,  119. 
Drucour,  Governor,  224,  227. 
Dumas,  97,  99, 168,  376. 
Dunbar,  Colonel,  85,  92,  94, 104. 
Duquesne,  Governor,  56. 
Duquesne,  Fort,  67,  86,  89,  92, 

114,268;  Fall  of,  285. 
Durell,  Admiral,  294,  295. 
Dutch  traders,  77. 


E 


Edward,  Fort,  115, 190,  196, 197, 

200,  237,  261. 
Edward  Island,  Prince,  229. 
Erie,  Lake,  30,  187,  349,  351. 
Etchemain,  River,  315. 
Evangeline,  53. 
Eyre,  Captain,  118, 167. 


Fairfax,  Lord,  89. 

Fairfax  family,  61. 

Farquhar,  Colonel,  352. 

Ferguson,  220. 

Florida,  8. 

Forbes,  Brigadier,  268-285. 

Fox,  164. 

Francis,  St.,  342,  344. 

Franklin,  Benjamin,  76,  88,  89. 

Franquet,  217,  229. 

Eraser,  Colonel,  384. 

Frederick  King  of  Prussia,  139, 

288 
Frontenac,  Fort,  37,  110,  155; 

Capture  of,  263-266. 
Fry,  Colonel,  66. 


Gage,  Colonel,  95,  96,  97,  242, 

339,  353,  384. 
Galissonifere,  de  la,  40. 
George  II.,  King,  2,  267. 
George,  Lake,  114, 152,  233,  237. 
Georgia,  22. 
Germans  of  Pennsylvania,  78, 

201. 
Gist,  Christopher,  62,  64,  93. 
Grant,  Mrs.,  of  Laggan,  111,  234. 
Grant,  Major,  274,  278. 
Grant,  Ensign,  221. 
Great  Meadows,  The,  67, 69, 103. 
Greenaway  Court,  62. 
Gordon,  Engineer,  96. 
Goat  Island,  218,  224. 
Guienne,  Regiment  of,  155, 189. 


396 


^1**.     ■' 


# 


J      •••♦•^ 


'A,.: 


INDEX 


H 


Halifax,  48,  122,  169,  172,  177, 

180,  181,  216,  229,  292. 
Half  King,  The,  67. 
Halketts,  The,  85,  100,  286. 


Johnson,  Sir  W.,  76,86, 107,  112, 
115,  116, 117, 119, 149, 152, 153 
200,  248, 282, 349, 350, 352, 385. 

Johnson,  Sergeant,  364,  367,  377. 

Johnstone,  The  Chevalier,  321, 
330.  ' 


Haldimand,  Colonel,   347,    348,      Jonquifere,  Governor,  46,  56. 


349,  352,  382,  385. 
Hamilton,  Governor,  176. 
Hanoverian  troops,  162. 
Hardy,  Sir  Charles,  174,  180. 
Haviland,  Brigadier,  373,  378, 

384. 
Hawke,  Admiral,  214,  215. 
Hay,  Sir  Charles,  183. 
Hazen,  Captain,  359,  367,  385. 
Henderson,  326. 
Hendricks,  116, 118. 
Herkimer,  Fort,  202. 
Herve^ ,  Captain,  352. 
Hocquurt,  Admiral,  81. 
Hochkirchen,  Battle  of,  288. 
Holmes,  Admiral,  313. 
Holborne,  Admiral,  81,  171,  180, 

Hopkins,  Lieutenant,  222. 
Hopson,  Governor,  54. 
Houlifere,  de  la,  229, 
Howe,  Lord,  182,  202,  211,  237, 
244,246.  '        '        '        ' 

Howe,  Captain,  318, 319, 324, 384. 
Hudson  River,  13,  115,  116. 
Hudson  Forts,  198. 
Hudson  Bay  Company,  38. 
Huguenots,  14,  22. 


Jumonville,  68,  69,  72. 


K 


Kalm,  Dr.,  234. 

Knox,  Major,  167,  174,  232,  300, 
312,  325,  328,  334,  370,  374. 


I 

Illinois,  185,  351. 
tle-aux-Noix,  340. 
Irish  Catholics,  24. 


Jacques  Cartier,  330,  331. 
Jerseys,  The,  338. 
Jervis,  Lord,  316. 


./^ 


La  Corne,  190. 

La  Motte,  Admiral,  184. 

La  Sarre,  The  Regiment  of,  189. 

La  Salle,  42.  ' 

Languedoc,  The    Regiment  of, 

189. 
La  Reine,  The  Regiment  of,  189. 
Langy,  de,  243. 
Lawrence,   Governor,  122,    126. 

127,  128,  211,  219,  220,  222. 
Lawson,  Sir  Wilfrid,  214. 
Le  Boeuf,  Fort,  57,  63. 
Levis,  de,  144,  155,  196,  206,  241, 

301,303,305,308,314,315  330 

331,335,346,356,357  362  363 

364,  366, 369, 371,  372, 373;  380; 
ool,  000. 

Levis,  Point,  360. 

Lewis,  Major,  271,  274,  275,  276. 

277,278,361.  '       '       ' 

Lee,  Captain,  243. 
Ligneris,  de,  275,  278,  282,  350, 

351. 
Lorette,  358,  362. 
Loring,  Captain,  .385. 
Loudon,  Lord,  147,  149,  150,  151, 

165,  174, 175, 180, 181,  lb2,  200, 

Louis  XIV.,  30. 
Louis  XV.,  43,  288. 
Loutre,  le,  52,  325. 
397 


♦*; 


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19 


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INDEX 


Lowther,  Miss,  290,  316. 
L'Ours,  de,  330. 
Loyalhannon,  278,  279. 
Louisbourg,  13,  60,  86,  122, 181, 

260. 
Louisbourg,  Siege  of,  216-230. 
Lyman,  Colonel,  115,  120,  149, 

386. 


M 

Macdonald,  Captain,  276,  277. 
Mackellar,  Major,  94,  156,  290, 

298,  364,  365,  385. 
Maryland,  21,  65,  204. 
Marin,  66,  360,  361. 
Maria  Theresa,  139. 
MassachuBsets,  10,  12,  113,  205, 

232. 
Mempliramagog,  Lake,  346. 
Mercer,  Colonel,  111. 
Michillimackinac,  187. 
Micmac  Indians,  53. 
Minorca,  143. 
Mission  Indians,  185. 
Mississquoi,  343. 
Mohawk  river,  77, 154,  201. 
Monckton,    Brigadier,    54,    122, 

126,  291,  301,  304,  307,   309, 

327,  378,  380,  384,  385. 
Montreal,  37,  43,  154,  157,  177, 

197,  206,  239,  241,  266,  376, 

379;  Surrender  of,  382. 
Montcalm,  144,    154,    157,   197, 

239-269,   296-329;    Death  of, 

329. 
Monongahela  river,  94,  274. 
Monroe,  Colonel,  169,  171,  176, 

189,  191,  192,  195. 
Mordaunt,  Sir  John,  214. 
Montmorency,  Falls  of,  297, 299, 

304,  314,  321. 
Montigny,  361. 
Mount  Vernon,  86. 
Murray,  Brigadier,  291,  313,  336, 

354,  366,  368,  360,  363,  364, 

865,  367,  370,  372,  374,  376. 


N 


Necessity,  Fort,  70, 

New  Hampshire,  10. 

New  Jersey,  14 ;  Militia,  153. 

New  Orleans,  41. 

New  York,  13, 108,  200,  210,  231, 

338 ;  regiment,  73. 
Newcastle,  Duke  of,  79, 138, 163, 

164,  208. 
Niagara,  86,  106,  146,  147,  160, 

291;  Capture  of,  347-352. 
Noblesse,  Canadian,  33,  34. 
North  Carolina,  73,  203. 
Nova  Scotia,  126,  200. 
Noyan,  Payan  de,  264,  266. 


Ohio,  The,  40-46,  276. 
Oneida,  Lake,  110,  201. 
Ontario,  Lake,  110,  201, 349. 
Orleans,  Isle  of,  299,  307. 
Orme,  Captain,   83,  84,   89,  91, 

94,  101,  102. 
Osborne,  Admiral,  214. 
Oswego,  Fort,  •  110,    145,    147 ; 

Capture  of,  163-158,  201,  264, 

347,  373. 


Pause,  de  la,  381. 
Patroon  families,  14. 
Penn  family,  135. 
Pennsylvania,     16,     204,     268, 

338. 
Pepperell,  155. 
Peter,  Lake  St.,  375. 
Philadelphia,  15,  133,  134,  232, 

281. 
Picquet,  Abbe,  348. 
Pitt,  138,  161, 162,  163, 164,  208 

260,  288,  291,  393. 
Pitt,  Fort,  283,  360,  363. 
Pointe-aux-TremMes,  362. 
Pompadour,  Id.adame. 
Post,  281,  282. 


398 


4;^ 


^: 


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tW' 


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INDEX 


Pouchot,  Captain,  349,  352,  377, 

383. 
Presqu'ile,  351. 

Q 

Quebec,  34,  177,  206. 

Quebec,  Siege    and  capture    of, 

296-333. 
Quebec,  Murray's  garrison    in, 

354-371. 


Shewanoe  Indians,  153. 

Sillery,  367. 

Sinclair,  Sir  John,  95,  271. 

Six  Nations,  8,  10,  .39,  77,  347. 

South  Carolina,  22. 

St.  Pierre,  Legardeur  de,  57,  62. 

St.  Laurence,  Eapids  of  the,  378. 

Stanwix,  353. 

Starke,  237,  243,  303. 

Stobo,  307. 

Stewart,  Captain,  101. 

Superior,  Lake,  37,  185,  187. 

Sutherland,  H.M.S.,  306, 316, 318. 


.? 


Racehorse,  sloop,  374. 
Earaezay,  Governor  of  Quebec, 

298,  306,  330-3. 
Rascal,  Fort,  155. 
Rattlesnake  Mountain,  239. 
Reastown,  272. 
Repentigny,  de,  350-1. 
Rhode  island,  10. 
Richelieu  river,  115,  S40,  373. 
Rigaud,  154,  167,  168. 
Robinson,  Sir  Thomas,  79. 
Rochefort,  214. 
Rogers,   237,  242,  243,  244,  245, 

261,  385. 
Rollo,  Lord,  374. 
Roosevelt,  Theodore,  106. 
Roussillon,  Regiment  of,  189. 
Ruvigny,  de,  327. 

s 

Sabbath  Day  Point,  243. 

Saguenay  river,  294. 

Saint  Foy,  357,  358,  362 ;  Battle 

of,  365-7. 
Saunders,  Admiral,  292, 294,  300, 

319  335. 
Schuyler  family,  234,  243,  385. 
Scott,  Colonel,  125. 
Scotch-Irish,  The,  23-26,  179. 
Senerzergue,  330. 
Shirley,  Governor,  57,  86,  106, 

111,  122,  126,   145,  146,  148, 

154. 


399 


Temple,  Lord,  161,  164. 
Thousand  Islands,  The,  201. 
Three  Rivers,  372,  375. 
Ticonderoga,  Fort,  121,  147,  152, 

167,  186,  200 ;  Battle  of,  231- 

261 ;  Capture  of,  339-41,  346, 

373. 
Toulon,  214. " 
Townshend,  Brigadier,  291,  307, 

308,  327,  328,  331-4,  346,  373. 

u 

Ulster   immigrants  (see  Scotch- 
Irish). 
Utrecht,  Treaty  of,  44,  47. 


"Van  Braam,  62,  71. 

Vanguard,  H.M.S.,  371. 

Vaudreuil,  Marquis  de,  80,  106, 
144,  154,  166,  167,  168,  177, 
197,  201,  202,  207,  239,  240, 
265,  295,  329,  339,  356,  367, 
361,  372,  374,  381,  384. 

Vauquelin,  de,  371. 

Venango,  Fort,  351. 

Vergor,  de,  123,  319. 

Villiers,  de,  7,  154,  352.     - 

Virginia,  16,  19,  261. 


^ 


m 


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1 
I 


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1t» 


INDEX 


% 


Walpole,  334. 

Ward,  66. 

Washington,  George,  61-65,  67, 
69,  86,  92,  94,  101,  102,  105, 
132,  179,  203-6,  279,  337,  384. 

Washington,  Laurence,  61. 

Webb,  Colonel,  147,  176,  189, 
201. 

Westerham,  212. 
.^  Whitmore,  Brigadier,   211,  220, 
*'     221,  229,  232. 

Williams,  Colonel,  116,  386. 

Williamsburg,  65,  66,  81. 


•'* 


William  Henry,  Fort,  115,  119, 
149, 167, 168, 171, 182 ;  Capture 
of,  and  massacre,  186-202, 237. 

Wills  Creek,  67,  73,  8b. 

Winslow,  Colonel,  122, 124, 12^, 
128. 

Winchester,  89. 

Wolfe,  General, ;  Early  life,  211- 
214 ;  At  Louisbourg,  216-226  ; 
At  Quebec,  289-326. 

Wood  Creek,  159. 


Young,  Colonel,  192,  366. 


M 


Ik 


Butler  &  Tanner,  The  Selwood  Printing  Works,  Fiome,  and  London. 


^ 


K 


*t" 


t,  115,  119, 
\2 ;  Capture 
^6-202, 237. 
8b, 
}2,124,  12r, 


y  life,  211- 
?,  216-226 ; 


366. 


Ion. 


*.- 


'% 


